Jung Joongsan dressed in his martial robes and descended the mountain. His neatly arranged yellow attire suited him well. With his strong features, he looked every inch a martial artist.

By now, quite a few people below Mount Zhongnan recognized him. Being a formally registered disciple of the Zhongnan Sect had become more familiar to him than being the Jeong Clan Estate's second son. His days were devoted to training.

Three months earlier, he had been released from attending to the Zhongnan Sword Immortal.

["You have grasped the fundamentals. Now that you are no longer a freeloader, you may go down."]

That had come after he learned the forms in the first half of the Supreme Unity Formless Sword. He had immersed himself in practice until he could execute its sword moves deftly with his eyes closed.

It was because of the rumors about his younger half brother that reached him whether he listened for them or not. Every trip down the mountain brought more stories that were difficult to believe.

"They say some boy fought in the contest between the Desolate Fortress and the Namgoong clan."

"The Blue Qilin died, didn't he? Tragic, and astonishing too. Doesn't that mean someone surpassing Namgoong Sejin has appeared among the rising generation?"

First had come word that the Namgoong young clan head had been slain. He was someone they would have revered had he visited the Jeong Clan Estate, a young master often compared with the Sword Dragon, wiji myohwa. News that he had died at the hands of none other than Jung Yeonshin had swept all the way to Xi'an.

Joongsan had met his younger brother again after he became a white robe of the Desolate Fortress. It was still hard to believe. Yet he could not simply dismiss the news outright.

He had witnessed the prowess and talent of the brother he had scorned. The sword strike that took the Vicious Rakshasa Swordsman's head belonged to the realm of exceptional gifts. That was undeniable, even if Yeonshin had fought alongside such outstanding masters as the Sword Dragon, the Neutral Spirit Fist, and the Cliff Sword.

He had thought his brother's fame would resound throughout the martial world someday. It had merely happened sooner than expected.

Before long, even that news paled in comparison.

"Some country folk who came trading from Sichuan told a strange tale. They said shipments have dwindled because the Ten Perfections Sect and the Pure Demon Alliance have all but collapsed..."

"That tells you how much those great unorthodox factions' extravagance inflated the flow of goods nearby. Wasn't it all wrung from the common people's blood and sweat? Only the merchants trading between cities would complain. The people's praises must have filled every valley in Sichuan."

"A great many supreme masters died. The Ten Perfections Sect's Fell Sword fell to the Tang clan head, and the Pure Demon Divine Hand, Sword Scorpion Demon, and Saber-Fist Demon to the Desolate Fortress's Lightning Genius. They say Sichuan's martial world is undergoing a tremendous upheaval..."

"Lightning Genius? Isn't that the boy who fought such a fierce battle with the Blue Qilin? Surely those are fanciful rumors."

"Well... They say he's captain of the Radiant Demon Squad now. It's probably true. The movements of the Desolate Fortress's youngest captain are fairly well documented. Any merchant company of even modest size is well informed, and generally has better judgment than most martial sects."

"Even so, how can anyone believe it? Unless they're from Huguang or Sichuan... Even a child knows how difficult it is to improve one's martial arts. The Desolate Fortress must be using an exceptional youngster as its public face."

"Well, let's wait and see. There's word that the captain of the Radiant Demon Squad entered the Martial Alliance's founding ceremony."

The conversation drifted through the markets of Xi'an.

The streets were bustling. Xi'an, below Mount Zhongnan, was an enormous city, crowded with people—from the processions of merchant companies and escort agencies carrying their loads to merchants chatting over their stalls, inn attendants sauntering outside to prop open their doors, and wandering martial artists roaming about gathering rumors.

Though the poor harvest had put many shops out of business, the city was still lively. Among the throng, men standing at one side of the market street with their hands clasped behind their backs were discussing affairs in the martial world. Their clothes were far from ordinary: immaculate long robes in green and blue. They were the proprietor and tailor of a fabric shop with a fair reputation in Xi'an.

'They won't be empty rumors.'

Jung Joongsan had stopped in his tracks. He nearly rebuked the fabric merchant for dismissing the news as idle gossip, then held his tongue.

He was ashamed to act the elder brother now. Their standing did not compare, either: an initiate of the Zhongnan Sect and the Desolate Fortress's Radiant Demon Squad captain.

He felt deeply indebted to Jung Yeonshin. As the Zhongnan Sect's benefactor, Yeonshin had given both him and his niece reason to hold their heads high. He ought to speak up for his brother, yet the image of his childhood self flickered before his eyes. It crushed any dignity Jung Joongsan, disciple of Zhongnan, possessed.

'Damn it.'

It had been about seven years ago, yet it still felt like yesterday.

At a village feast hosted by the Jeong Clan Estate, he had kicked the hand of a boy standing in a corner with a bowl of plain noodles and scolded him to return to his room.

["Want to join in? You looked so pathetic hovering around that my foot went up on its own. Go practice that worthless art of yours. The Movement Art, was it...?"]

Jung Joongsan remembered what he had said and done. The village youths his age had jeered along behind him, knowing that the estate's direct family scorned its third son.

That must have been Jung Yeonshin's tenth birthday.

Their father had said they must use the earth's energy in Xinye County to drive out the taint of the child who had killed his mother. On his son's tenth birthday, he had gathered the villagers to pray for the well-being of their fields.

The people of Xinye County, treated to all the meat and liquor they could consume, had happily praised the Master of the Jeong Clan. Jung Joongsan, who played the ringleader among the village children, had been no different.

And that was only one glimpse of it. Similar incidents, and worse ones, had happened frequently. Now, that past had become a source of hellish regret.

The more he embraced the stern teachings of Zhongnan, the greater his remorse and shame grew. The people of Xinye County, too, must be fretting over when the Desolate Fortress captain might pass through their village.

"I hear the Hwangbo clan's young clan head serves the Radiant Demon Squad captain. Couldn't a considerable share of those achievements belong to the Supreme Flame Dragon? Even if Lightning Genius really is the captain, I mean. Above all, there must be a difference in experience."

"You keep at it when all I'm saying is we should wait and see. Do you have some grudge against the rising master?"

Regardless of Jung Joongsan's feelings, the fabric merchants continued discussing the Radiant Demon Squad captain, a contender for the strongest of his age in the world.

Rumors of the martial world were a great diversion for ordinary people. Who was stronger, what feats had been accomplished, which martial art could claim supremacy in the region...

Then the fabric merchant in green abruptly pitched forward. His neatly woven, grass-green robes stirred up dust as a woman's cold voice rang out.

"The rumors concerning Lightning Genius, captain of the Radiant Demon Squad, contain no exaggeration."

The voice came from beside Jung Joongsan. Had she struck the merchant with finger wind?

The instant he sensed her presence, the tailor's horrified reaction marked the last moment before his consciousness began to fade. He felt a faint sting at the back of his neck.

His sleep point had been struck before he could do a thing. Despite possessing the core energy of Zhongnan's Supreme Unity Heart Art, he was overcome by drowsiness.

"Proprietor! No! Forgive me! I-I failed to recognize an eminent master...!"

The sight of the tailor frantically bowing narrowed from above and below. Then darkness covered Jung Joongsan's vision.

He briefly lost his balance and staggered, and an icy sensation gripped his forearm. The touch was terribly inhuman. A powerful hand had seized him roughly.

It was the hand of a supreme master. Even as his mind went dark, terror flared like wildfire.

'The Tyrant Sword Tribe...?'

The Jeong Clan Estate's second son wondered. Rumors had been circulating that the Tyrant Sword Tribe Lord was moving north. Jung Joongsan was on his way to place an order with a grain merchant under instructions from the Zhongnan leadership. Perhaps the Tyrant Sword Tribe had arrived before his sect could stockpile provisions.

That vague speculation was his last thought before his consciousness skipped forward in time. At some point, the sensation against his back had changed. The noise of Xi'an's markets reached him from far away, as though he had been dragged into a back alley.

THWACK!

The impact against his cheek shot all the way to the crown of his head. It felt like a backhanded blow. Though winter was still some way off, a chill spread through him as if he had been buried in snow.

"Wake up."

The imperious tone suited the voice exceedingly well. His captor did not handle him gently. With a single motion of her hand, his consciousness became as sharp as a flash of lightning.

Her control of core energy was terrifying. She seemed to have used a tiny burst of internal energy to stimulate his mind.

"Uhh..."

When he opened his eyes with a dazed groan, the ends of short gray hair brushed the edge of his vision.

A pitch-black sword hilt at her waist radiated a fearsome presence. How long had it held such sublime martial power? It almost seemed to draw in the darkness itself. It was a divine sword imbued with its owner's spiritual nature.

The woman herself was different, beginning with the waves of qi she gave off. They pricked Jung Joongsan's skin as though they had taken physical form.

She must be a master rare even across the entire world. He could think of no possibilities beyond the Nine Great Sects, the Eight Families, or the Thirteen Skies. The person who had dragged him here by force was a supreme master who walked the heavens.

"Are you Jung Joongsan, son of Jung Daemyung? Lie to me, and I shall rend your sinews and dislocate your bones."

It was as though frost had settled over the autumn sunlight. Her voice scraped coldly at the back of his skull.

In the hands of a supreme master, sinew-rending and bone-dislocation was a torture technique of unparalleled sophistication. It was said to make one truly feel one's bones and flesh being wrenched out of place. Since core energy kept the victim conscious, even fainting offered no escape from the pain.

'She's mad...!'

A hostile supreme master was looking down at him in a market alley. The panic slowly rising within him raced toward terror. Overwhelming fear tightened around his mind.

"... Yes."

Jung Joongsan forced the answer from his throat.

"There is a slight resemblance..."

The woman's voice trailed off. Doubt showed on her face as she gazed steadily at him.

"Blood is a strange thing indeed," she muttered to herself, then spoke again.

"I command you: tell me everything you know of Lightning Genius Jung Yeonshin's childhood."

* * *

The sunlight had a blue cast that day. Beneath a clear, open sky stood the Desolate Fortress delegation, its numbers now more than tenfold what they had been.

The Forest-Treading Squad outnumbered the Radiant Demon Squad. Even more people had gathered to see them off. Among them were those who had attempted to examine Lightning Genius's martial arts on the Zhuge clan head's orders.

Jung Yeonshin had earnestly accepted their challenges in order to scrutinize their martial arts. Though they had filled the pages of his Comprehensive Compendium for Breaking the Righteous Path, they still showed goodwill toward the Radiant Demon Squad captain.

His position as a Desolate Fortress captain had made it so. They saw him as someone who remained humble despite his lofty standing. Many masters offered courteous farewells, including Fujian's Clear Unity Sect leader and Seop Uncheol, his first opponent at the founding ceremony.

"I shall protect the common people of my region so that I need never feel ashamed before you, Captain."

"Regardless of the matter with my brother-in-law, you have my admiration. May you fare well."

As Jung Yeonshin raised his hands in return, his attention remained on Namgoong Hwashin. Ever since seeing his elder brother's body again, the White Qilin had worn a preoccupied expression.

What would he feel as the younger brother? With no particular affection for Jung Joongsan himself, Yeonshin found it difficult to imagine.

'I should ask Senior Ak for advice.'

As he tried to understand the feelings of the man who had been his most reliable subordinate, Jung Yeonshin became newly conscious that he now led an entire combat unit.

Once Namgoong Hwashin returned to the Suncheon Wing, it would be difficult to see him for a while. There was much to keep in mind. Upon returning to the fortress, he would have to reorganize the Radiant Demon Squad to strengthen its fighting power.

The return journey would pass quickly. Replenishing the blue robes, who had suffered many casualties, and teaching the unranked disciples would demand careful thought. Competition among the captains was said to be fierce. Their subordinates' achievements were the Black Captains' prestige and merit.

'Missions won't always be assigned to just a handful of us.'

He was thinking this when a voice spoke.

"Thank you."

Ak Yerim of the Yue clan of Shandong filled his view. Her loose hair covered the white cloth at her shoulders. The shaft of the spear slung diagonally across her back shifted loosely with her breathing.

She offered Jung Yeonshin a respectful martial salute. Her manner of speaking had changed.

"I, Ak Yerim, have learned much from the Desolate Fortress's Radiant Demon Squad captain. I apologize for troubling you with my foolish, childish behavior."

The body of the Blue Qilin, Namgoong Sejin, had been laid to rest in the Alliance's communal cemetery. Its grounds were vast, intended for wandering martial artists of the Alliance who had no sect of their own.

The Sword Star, now more active in his involvement, was watching over matters. No further disgrace would occur. The Namgoong clan had been unable to claim the body. An affair more shameful than any in the world had come to light, and they could only wait for the rumors to die down.

Countless people passed through the main gate of the Alliance headquarters. The Radiant Demon Squad captain's triumph at the founding ceremony was one of the greatest topics of discussion in Hanzhong of late. It was not merely the common people talking. The Alliance's martial artists were even more absorbed in it. That was how strange and astonishing it had been.

"Moreover, you have allowed me to safeguard my beloved's rest. My gratitude knows no bounds."

Ak Yerim paid no heed to the gazes of the people who all but surrounded them. Her martial salute became a formal bow. With her hands fully joined, she bent at the waist, her bearing suffused with respect—as though thanking him not as a martial artist, but simply as a person.

"May you fare well."

Jung Yeonshin offered a brief wish for her success. He concealed his awkwardness behind his returning salute. They had barely exchanged a few words even while traveling together to West Peak Road. As a captain of the Desolate Fortress, he simply kept it from showing.

Next came the Fan Dragon, Zhuge Hyeon.

Warmth filled the Radiant Demon Squad captain's eyes. His expression changed at once.