The sect leader's fallen corpse brought silence.

The blow Yeonshin had unleashed through sheer force seemed to have worked well enough. The vicious smiles had vanished from the faces of the Mantis Sect men surrounding him.

"..."

The Mantis Sect leader's body bore the marks of an overwhelming sword strike. The powerful reek of blood alone made that unreal death feel all too real.

Jung Yeonshin turned away from the man's mangled remains and spoke, holding the blood-dripping Desolate Sword low at his side.

"Today, I destroy the Mantis Sect's signboard."

"Wh-what?"

"Y-you lunatic...!"

The Mantis Sect disciples finally found their voices and staggered back in horror. Amid their groans, he heard someone speak of sword force unlike anything they had ever heard of or seen.

That was what Jung Yeonshin's sword meant to people who lived within this county's narrow corner of Murim.

He seized the momentum, giving his enemies no more time to think. Using Infinite Blossom Fist Strike had left his core energy depleted, but with the senses he had gained here, he should be more than capable of handling opponents of this caliber.

STEP.

When he took a step forward, many of the cowards took an equal step back. The loyalty of unorthodox martial artists was unlike the honor of chivalrous warriors.

These were people who bought and sold martial arts. It was said that lives changed hands over a single coin. As he could see before him now, the exceptions were few.

"Kill him! Let's kill him!"

"You lunatic. You go."

"He's a monster we can't fight!"

"A d-divine sword...!"

A monster, a divine sword. In that moment, he truly understood that not every corner of Murim was the same martial world. He would never hear such words at the Desolate Fortress.

'There's nothing more to gain here.'

Jung Yeonshin began striking again. These were no longer the men he had first faced. Their spirit broken, their web of blades had slackened, and he slipped through its gaps to unleash his swift sword.

It was swordsmanship the Mantis Sect disciples could not withstand. At last, some began to flee.

"Aaagh!"

"We're finished! The sect is doomed!"

"Th-the Master Swordsman! The Master Swordsman! Let's call him!"

That shout made everyone present hesitate. Jung Yeonshin was no exception.

What Master Swordsman would unorthodox martial artists call upon with such faith, if not one of the Blood Flame Cult's Blood Master Swordsmen?

"Answer me. Was the Blood Flame Cult behind you? Did you offer the people you abducted to them too?"

He seized one man's arm with a grappling technique and twisted it, simultaneously pressing his cold blue blade before the man's throat. The man shouted, drenched in cold sweat.

"Y-yes! Yes! He'll be sleeping in the annex now! Th-that's what he always does!"

"You know nothing about masters."

How could one fail to sense a fight of this magnitude?

"Spare...!"

This was a fight to the death. Compassion had receded into the back of his mind. Without emotion, he swept the Desolate Sword across the man's throat, then raised it.

His core energy, flowing faster than before, carried the principles of the Classic of Initiating Transcendence. The layered energy filled the pressure points of his right arm, waist, and lower body, forming an opening stance like an ancient tree rooted firmly in the earth.

CLANG!

A surprise sword strike struck the Desolate Sword. There had not even been a whistle through the air. At the same instant, dark red hair brushed past Jung Yeonshin's forehead.

The vibration spreading through his grip was more powerful than anything the Mantis Sect's men had produced.

"A Blood Master Swordsman."

"You blocked that? Then this carnage must be your doing."

"Carnage? Hardly a word for the Blood Flame Cult to use."

Jung Yeonshin answered calmly, looking straight ahead. The man was like the one he had seen in Zhenping County: hair mingled black and red, bright crimson martial robes, and blood smeared thickly around his mouth. An eerie wave of qi emanated from his entire body and the iron sword in his hand.

He recalled something Ma Jin had added while discussing his merits. If he slew five or so Blood Master Swordsmen, he would be recognized as a blue-robed warrior regardless of his age.

Naturally, it had been a joke. Blood Flame cultists were not a common sight.

"I'm in luck."

"What?"

"Three left."

"..."

Before, this man would have been one of those who charged regardless of what Jung Yeonshin said. Things were different now. He edged sideways, seemingly wary of Yeonshin's unveiled presence.

It was true that Blood Master Swordsmen were uncommon masters. In a different league from the Mantis Sect men, he had sensed Jung Yeonshin's bearing.

Jung Yeonshin did not wait.

THUD!

Martial power filled his leg once more as he kicked off the ground. His second step was a forceful stomp. With a heavy reverberation, he drove straight in and unleashed the Swift Sword Style of the radiant demon arts.

A flash of light traced a straight line and struck the man's sword.

CLAAANG!

Taking the initiative had let him put his full strength behind it. Though blocked, the strike had clearly driven his opponent back.

He decided to end it here. This was no master he could defeat easily, and they were in the middle of the Mantis Sect. Drawing out the fight would lower his chances of victory.

Sky-blue light flashed in his eyes for an instant as his gaze swept over the body of the swordsman who was his equal. His senses, honed keenly by group combat, cast an unseen light that perceived even behind the man as he retreated a step.

He saw precisely how waves of qi gathered in the left hand taking the opening stance of a sinister palm technique.

'Here.'

It was instinct. Rather than clash with his opponent's martial art, he chose to arrive first. A decision made faster than an instant became waves of qi that wrapped the Desolate Sword in layer upon layer.

He had imbued the radiant demon arts' Swift Sword Style with the Burst Discharge of Vortex from Infinite Blossom Fist Strike. Becoming one with his sword, he folded the space between them.

SHUNK!

With little force, he pierced through in a single stroke.

Here lay the essence of the swift sword—a method for a swordsman without depth to survive. A light breeze scattered a few droplets of blood.

"Hah, haaagh...!"

The eerie waves of qi unique to the Blood Flame Cult dispersed. With a breathless gasp, the second Blood Master Swordsman's eyes widened almost to bursting.

He was a martial artist who could play the Reaper in a county like this. His own death must have been impossible to believe. Jung Yeonshin could feel his emotions directly, beginning with the tremors transmitted through the blade.

The Blood Master Swordsman opened his mouth, his eyes filled with venomous resentment.

"Y-you..."

"I don't listen to last words."

The muscles in his arm suddenly stood out. He did not even summon his internal energy. Mercilessly, he swept the embedded sword sideways and turned away in the same motion.

The sound of the man collapsing without so much as a groan was left behind him.

"Don't run."

He spoke quietly. The men who had been slipping away as silently as though they had mastered the noble race's movement technique froze in place.

A voice without a trace of core energy had brought the Mantis Sect completely under his control.

* * *

Jung Yeonshin split the Mantis Sect's signboard before the assembled people of Lianhu County.

While some rejoiced and trampled the halved signboard, others wept, cradling the emaciated bodies of their family members. More than a dozen corpses had been discovered in the sect's annex and rear courtyard.

It was the same as in Zhenping County. Even with this unexpected merit, he felt bitter.

With a large sack slung over his back, Jung Yeonshin glanced behind him. The Mantis Sect disciples who had survived, all missing their right arms, were being trampled by the townspeople.

They might have cultivated unorthodox martial arts, but he had shattered their energy cores. Unable even to steady themselves and missing a limb besides, they were utterly disabled.

"Xi'an should be Zhongnan's territory."

What had they been doing all this time? Jang Sam, who stood beside him wiping away tears, responded to his muttered words. He had just wrapped his daughter's body in cloth and shouldered it.

"Isn't the Zhongnan Sect at war with the Tyrant Sword Tribe?"

His eyes were bloodshot, his speech faltering. Jung Yeonshin's brow furrowed.

"Zhongnan, with the Tyrant Sword Tribe...?"

This was a rumor he had never heard. His words stopped. Images of his only niece and the Zhongnan masters flashed through his mind.

At the end stood the Tyrant Sword Tribe Lord, the man who had revealed the aura of an absolute master and annihilated an entire family. Even now, Yeonshin did not know why.

"Since when?"

"I don't really know. All I heard was that the nearby martial schools under Zhongnan packed up and went up Mount Zhongnan..."

"..."

After that, Jung Yeonshin remained silent.

Against the Tyrant Sword Tribe, wouldn't the Zhongnan Sect have to stake its very survival? If they had clashed head-on, it would not have ended with the deaths of just one or two masters.

They had more than enough reasons to fight. The Tyrant Sword Tribe Lord's blade had severed Grand Elder Yeo Il-Shin's ear.

They must have clashed more than once or twice, whether before that or afterward. The destruction of the Jeong Clan Estate, which Jung Yeonshin still did not understand, was no different. Anyone could see it was unnatural for Zhongnan's masters to have been staying there at precisely that time.

Little Hye-Ah was innocent. He could only hope his second brother, Jung Joongsan, was keeping her safe.

'I need to go to Zhongnan.'

Ma Jin would grant permission too. The Thirteen skies of the unorthodox path were powers that held supreme sway over unorthodox Murim. They were inevitably targets for the Desolate Fortress's armed intervention, and taking the heads of Tyrant Sword Tribe masters meant earning merit.

Jung Yeonshin now had the backing of the Desolate Fortress. He also possessed enough martial strength to handle most warriors.

'I can earn merit too. It's time I learned.'

Why the Jeong Clan Estate had fallen.

Why had the Tyrant Sword Tribe and the Blood Flame Cult worked together? What reason had they had to destroy the estate?

The Zhongnan Sect would know.

"You have put my daughter's soul to rest, and her grievances with it..."

"Young master, thank you! Truly, thank you...!"

"His honored name is Yeonshin of the Jung family! We must never forget it!"

"Great Hero Jung! He is Great Hero Jung!"

He turned to leave, receiving the farewells of Jang Sam and the other townspeople. They offered to hold a feast for him, but he refused, telling them to save their scarce food in this year of poor harvests for the funerals.

At that, some began repeating the three syllables of his name, Jung Yeonshin, as though branding them into their minds.

He rested one hand lightly on his sword hilt and gripped the end of the sack on his back with the other. Walking at a brisk pace, he reached the hill leading out of Lianhu County.

"Did you find any trace of the Phantom Thief?"

Jung Yeonshin abruptly stopped and spoke. The nearby brush rustled, and two people emerged. A swordsman cloaked in a keen presence approached with an extraordinary-looking young Taoist.

They were Mount Hua's Sword Saint, Sage Cheon Joo, and Yoo Hyun, the Mount Hua sect leader's disciple.

"It seems the Mantis Sect wasn't the one."

Perhaps it was because he had witnessed the destruction of a sect, but Cheon Joo's manner was considerably more courteous than before. He was treating Yeonshin not merely as a promising talent like Yoo Hyun, but as a true warrior of the Desolate Fortress.

Jung Yeonshin nodded and replied.

"I see. That's unfortunate."

"Your martial prowess impressed me. I felt as though I were looking at a future captain of the Radiant Demon Squad—no, a Divine Sword Squad Leader. The future of our sect must have broadened his horizons as well."

Cheon Joo stroked the back of Yoo Hyun's head. As his Taoist cap wobbled, Yoo Hyun frowned faintly and glanced at Jung Yeonshin's face. His formerly languid expression now looked particularly alert.

"That was my first defeat. Whenever I remember telling you you'd last five moves, I feel like I'll fall out of bed."

"Your first defeat?"

Jung Yeonshin tilted his head slightly. Yoo Hyun waved a hand.

"My senior brothers and sisters are all much older. The only ones my age are my martial nephews and nieces, and their martial arts are too shallow."

"Mount Hua has no disciples your age?"

"I'm the only one my age in the sect leader's disciple generation."

"And?"

At the indifferent reply, Yoo Hyun lowered his eyes slightly.

"... How about being friends? You seem interested in Mount Hua's martial arts too. Huguang isn't far from Shaanxi."

"I have no reason to go out of my way to visit Mount Hua."

"Oh..."

"But I won't turn you away if you visit. Just learn a new martial art each time you come."

Apparently unused to rejection, Yoo Hyun had looked visibly flustered. Jung Yeonshin's last words, however, brightened his face.

Yeonshin had to listen to his chatter as they traveled together to the rendezvous in Xi'an. He was talkative in a different way from Heon Wonchang.

Most of it concerned martial principles, and the orthodox martial philosophy of the Nine Great Sects proved useful even to Jung Yeonshin. The occasional remarks Cheon Joo added nearly sparked inspiration several times.

'This really is helpful. I'll look forward to a visit from Mount Hua.'

After a day's walk, they reached the inn where they had first taken lodgings in Xi'an. That was where the pleasant interlude ended.

He went up to Ma Jin's room.

"Your bearing has changed a little again."

"It looks like you've been cut across the back. Sit down, and I'll apply some wound salve."

"Lightning Genius. The mission..."

With Chung Myung, Baek Miryeo, Ma Jin, and Heon Wonchang watching, he spoke of going to Zhongnan.

After hearing his circumstances, Ma Jin was just opening his mouth with a troubled expression when Jung Yeonshin opened the sack in his hand and spilled out its contents.

"Oh!"

"...!"

They were the Blood Master Swordsman's head and the halved signboard of the Mantis Sect.