Only after casually mentioning ten moves did Jung Yeonshin worry about his opponent’s composure. Taking fist and palm techniques from someone blinded by rage—surely that would be no help in developing his martial art?

'He’s fine.'

His concern had been entirely unfounded. The boy’s face had actually grown calmer.

This was when the strength of an illustrious noble clan revealed itself. Its members did not squander their martial power recklessly. What made such clans frightening, people said, was their ability to pour all their formidable skill into precisely where it was needed.

"I’ll put everything I have into those ten moves you mentioned."

A noble clan’s successor inherited its spirit. The boy’s adoptive grandfather was Ma Yeonjeok, who had once looked down upon the world as the Divine Sword Squad Leader. His instruction could hardly have been haphazard. The waves of core energy rising along the boy’s arms were anything but ordinary.

"This is the Fusion Fist Strike."

"You can use palm techniques too. Don’t restrict your forms just because you mentioned a fist art. You have plenty to show me."

"..."

He seemed angry again. Jung Yeonshin decided to keep his mouth shut.

The silence was brief. The moment the powerful waves of qi withdrew into the boy’s body, Yeonshin knew he could not take him lightly. The way he charged was different now. His footwork seemed to have improved to match his changed attitude.

TAP! WHOOSH!

It was the first time Yeonshin had seen a light stomping step. The boy spun straight into a punch, a spiraling wave of force wrapped around his fist. Jung Yeonshin rotated in the opposite direction and countered with Energy Accumulation Discharge.

BOOM!

Fist met fist. That was no easy feat, even in a sparring match. It meant their concentration had reached its peak. Fragments of their entangled forces scattered across their clothes.

The boy was the one pushed back. An advantage in internal power was one thing; the level of martial attainment was another. As the boy swallowed a groan, Jung Yeonshin wound core energy around his lower body.

It was not over. The essence of Energy Accumulation Discharge was accumulation.

Jung Yeonshin twisted his stomping step and advanced another pace. His force remained intact, building upon itself once more. This was an art that unleashed greater power than the first strike in a mere instant. The air warped around the straight right punch of Accumulated Energy, Second Strike.

BOOM!

He distinctly felt it crush through the boy’s elbow guard and bury itself in his solar plexus. The blow sank quite deep.

"Guh!"

This was what he had meant by thinking of a power fist: a fist art that freely employed Energy Accumulation Discharge. He had drawn inspiration from the linked heavy blows of his opponent’s Fusion Fist Strike.

He was pleased to see his opponent grit his teeth and reset his opening stance. It meant Jung Yeonshin could still go further.

"Here comes more."

"You arrogant...!"

Perhaps because of the fierce fighting, the boy’s voice was practically a growl.

The boy spread his palm wide, and his qi waves changed. It happened just as Jung Yeonshin launched his third accumulated punch. The boy’s left hand changed direction three times, as though toying with the fist, before striking the back of it.

THUD!

Yet it was the boy who retreated. Brow furrowed, he stumbled backward and rubbed his own hand, dispersing the residual force. The impact must have been tremendous.

Jung Yeonshin immediately grasped the transformation he had just witnessed. Those were not mere feints, but movements that used core energy to build power for Burst Discharge.

'There’s another interesting one.'

Delighted, he stepped forward. His attainment in the Movement Art shone at that moment. He was holding the accumulated force in place through minute movements throughout his body.

BOOM!

Accumulated Energy, Fourth Strike was different again. The marble floor cracked the moment he stamped down. It was beginning to strain even his body.

'I can bear it.'

With so much power held throughout his body, it was difficult to employ his grass-blade Mobility Arts. Unless his opponent was particularly sluggish, he would not be able to close in and land a blow. But he had the radiant demon arts.

"You country bumpkin!"

He could read the charging boy’s movements with perfect clarity. The combat path of the radiant demon arts showed him the trajectory along which to drive his strike.

WHOOSH!

Jung Yeonshin instantly sank low. His seamless form embraced the freedom of the radiant demon arts. At that moment, his movement clearly embodied principles a level above those of the Fusion Fist Strike.

His fourth attack.

CRASH!

Stone fragments flew in every direction from beneath his stamping foot. A sensation traveled through his knuckles—the feeling of something breaking. The Protective Aura flowing over the boy’s body had shattered.

'It would be good to develop protective force qi someday, too.'

Setting aside the passing thought, he followed his retreating opponent. As he moved like a leaf riding waves of wind, a new wave of qi coalesced.

'Five moves were enough.'

He felt throughout his body the principle that ran through his own martial learning. Layering power. Building it up however he could. The Classic of Initiating Transcendence and Energy Accumulation Discharge both worked that way. It was how he, raised in a third-rate martial family, faced the world.

A flash.

Sky-blue light blazed in Jung Yeonshin’s eyes. Blue lightning surged up within him.

The profound principles of the Fusion Fist Strike mingled with the formulas of the Classic of Initiating Transcendence and Energy Accumulation Discharge. Martial principles erupted in his mind, converging into a single essential formula: a fist art that grew stronger the longer an exchange continued.

Infinite Blossom Fist Strike.

The name arose naturally alongside the formula, finally bringing into the world an art worthy of being called his Famed Ultimate Technique.

Stone chips whirled in every direction, following the arm he swung from beside his shoulder.

WHOOOOSH!

The force gathered merely through his advance exploded before his opponent’s solar plexus. Although he released it from an inch away, the boy’s upper body shook violently. He swayed as though about to collapse, then stared blankly, as if all strength had drained from his body.

"A fist art embodying the essence of Burst Discharge! He’s no longer bound by the rotation of Silk-Reeling Force...!"

Ma Jin’s voice reached him from afar, mingled with a low murmur.

"We can keep going."

"..."

Yeonshin addressed his seemingly frozen opponent, but the boy merely bit his lower lip and said nothing.

The three observers approached from a distance. Ma Jin looked as if the strength had left his entire body, while his maternal grandfather Ma Yeonjeok’s frozen, utterly dazed expression was striking. Only the Desolate Fortress Master wore a faint smile.

"A rare spectacle. To witness the creation of a martial art! It has been some time since I enjoyed such entertainment."

"You flatter me. I hope I haven’t offended your eyes."

Jung Yeonshin dipped his head slightly. She gave a soft laugh.

"That is excessive modesty. You look quite delighted. What martial artist wouldn’t be? Have you named your fist art?"

"I have called it Infinite Blossom Fist Strike."

"A fist art whose brilliance blossoms endlessly with time. A fitting name. But its meaning is readily apparent, so take care that it does not become a weakness in actual combat. Against linked forms, the key is to endure the first exchange. With your talent, I trust you can overcome that."

"Thank you for your advice."

Jung Yeonshin raised his hands, one cupped around the other fist. The respect in his martial salute deepened the Desolate Fortress Master’s smile.

"Are you all right?"

"I’m sorry, Grandfather..."

Off to one side, the adoptive grandfather and grandson exchanged words of consolation. The boy, almost in tears, stared only at the ground, his face brimming with frustration. As he stroked his adopted grandson’s head, Ma Yeonjeok gazed at Jung Yeonshin with an exceedingly complicated expression.

'How could such a minor family produce so brilliant a talent...?'

He had some sense of shame, too. It was hard to speak to a grandson who drew such a firm boundary. He envied his son, who could at least approach the boy as his superior.

"Captain."

Jung Yeonshin looked at Ma Jin, who stood before him.

"Well done. And congratulations. You’ve gained another sword of your own. It’s an excellent martial art."

"I’ve only established the framework. I’m not entirely satisfied with the forms, and when I use it as a palm technique, I have to rely completely on the radiant demon arts."

"Even so, few among the white-robed warriors could withstand a single blow from you. I always try not to be surprised, but I can hardly believe anyone can improve this quickly."

"I need to improve faster."

His answer was almost a mutter. Ma Jin’s gaze, filled with countless emotions as he looked upon his sister’s son, was secondary.

He had learned that even Ma Yeonjeok could not demand the World Tree’s fruit. His goal had become still more urgent.

'When will I reach that damned enormous tree?'

He was desperate enough for harsh words to spring to mind.

"Lightning Genius has won. We should settle matters."

It was the Desolate Fortress Master’s distinctively crystalline voice. He turned to find her still smiling. She looked around at everyone present, including him, before speaking again.

"I shall teach Lightning Genius the kind of martial art he needs, whenever he wishes. He may also make one demand of the Desolate’s Ma Clan. I bear witness to this."

"I will convey that through my captain as well, when I choose."

A glance revealed an odd expression on Ma Jin’s face. Yeonshin had no particular desire to consider how the Hell Slaughterer, captain of the Radiant Demon Squad, felt about abruptly becoming a messenger.

'They’re the ones at fault.'

Lightly dismissing the thought, Jung Yeonshin finally looked at Ma Yeonjeok.

"Forgive me, but I must make one thing clear. I have no obligations of any kind toward my mother’s family. Do you agree?"

"Mm..."

The response was almost a groan. Perhaps all manner of thoughts were crossing his mind; he could not readily speak. As Jung Yeonshin stared steadily at him, Ma Yeonjeok opened his mouth with evident difficulty.

"What..."

His immaculate beard trembled faintly.

"What must I do for you to forgive me?"

"...!"

It was not Jung Yeonshin who reacted to those words. The boy designated as successor could not hide his devastation, and shock spread across Ma Jin’s face. Even the Desolate Fortress Master seemed mildly surprised.

Perhaps because he was the one involved, Jung Yeonshin had an entirely different thought.

'He seems frightening.'

They said the Desolate Fortress’s purple-robed masters stood as absolute powers whenever they ventured into Murim. Like heavenly gods, they held sway over the lives and deaths of most people within reach of their energy detection. It was a common rumor. Unless one was a sect leader of the Nine Great Sects, revered among ordinary people as an immortal, one could not even cross swords with them.

'And someone like that has bowed his head to me, so far beneath him in seniority.'

Simply because he was a talented blood relative. Would that be possible for anyone not obsessed with reviving his clan?

That was how far he went—enough to sever ties with a daughter who married the Master of the Jeong Clan. It gave Yeonshin chills. Enough to make him think he must choose his words carefully.

He had no desire to become “Ma Yeonshin.”

"Seeing you act this way, Grandfather, is the greatest burden of all. The past cannot be undone, and my mother’s family are no different from strangers to me. The Radiant Demon Squad is my family."

"Could we not build affection between us?"

"I don’t even have enough time to build my martial skills."

Even the influence of the Desolate’s Ma Clan could not reach the World Tree’s fruit, he had been told. And Jung Yeonshin knew nothing of familial affection. Neither necessity nor blood ties gave him any reason to feel drawn to them. He shook his head and spoke again.

"I won the match your grandson so insistently demanded. Please respect me as a martial artist."

"..."

He looked utterly bereft. Even so, Yeonshin could not relax. There was no knowing what honeyed schemes he might try in the future. From what Yeonshin could tell, there was madness in the man.

For now, he politely bid farewell to the Desolate Fortress Master and Ma Yeonjeok, then turned away. Training was urgent. His newly created Infinite Blossom Fist Strike was not yet complete.

"Yeonjeok. How interesting. I’ve never seen that look on your face before. The very picture of bitter regret."

"Fortress Master. If you won’t help, at least..."

"What can I do about the consequences of your own deeds?"

Letting the supreme masters’ conversation pass him by, he headed for the Radiant Demon Squad’s training ground. He sensed Ma Jin following behind him—the reverse of how they had arrived. It suddenly occurred to him that he had never learned the name of the Desolate’s Ma Clan’s successor, but he was not particularly curious.

"Lightning Genius."

They were passing a small lake. Reflected in the ripples shimmering with sunlight, Ma Jin cautiously spoke.

"There’s a mission that would be of help to you."