Their astonishment at the blindingly fast sword strike lasted only a moment. The Zhongnan disciples gritted their teeth and were about to draw their swords when a voice rang out.

"Enough!"

The clear, lovely voice made the surrounding brush tremble all at once. Tremendous core energy could be felt within it.

RUSTLE

She alighted like a celestial maiden, her presence overwhelming. Here was another who had attained the realm of Grass Flutter.

Jung Yeonshin studied the woman who had placed herself between them as though to mediate.

'She's strong.'

Her exceptional beauty barely registered. The formidable force enveloping her entire body belied her slender frame. Simply watching her stand there was enough to sense her extraordinary skill.

"What a disgraceful sight. Your words and conduct hardly befit disciples of Zhongnan. We will discuss this when we return."

The guards bowed their heads at her quiet words. It was the air of a superior reprimanding those beneath her. Only then did their faces redden, as though they had finally realized how disgracefully they had behaved.

"Our apologies, Eldest Martial Sister."

"We are ashamed to face you."

She nodded at their apologies, then turned to Jung Yeonshin and Heon Wonchang.

"Truly..."

Her lips moved. Blades of grass brushed by the fluttering hem of her Daoist robe split cleanly apart. She had reached a realm where the waves of qi emanating from her entire body possessed a cutting edge. She seemed no less capable than a blue-robed warrior of the Desolate Fortress.

"I am ashamed to face our honored visitors from the Desolate Fortress."

"..."

Heon Wonchang looked utterly overwhelmed. Since he could hardly be relied on while standing there in a daze, Jung Yeonshin spoke instead.

"My name is Jung Yeonshin. I belong to the Radiant Demon Squad, as does Young Master Heon Wonchang here."

"I am wiji myohwa of the Zhongnan Sect."

There was an imposing quality to her gentle voice. Jung Yeonshin felt it clearly. She was not deliberately exerting pressure; it was simply the dignity that came naturally to her. Only now did he truly appreciate the strength of the Nine Great Sects.

"wiji myohwa...? Good heavens, Zhongnan's sky sword dragon!"

Heon Wonchang's exclamation told him who she was. She was said to have slain the leader of an unorthodox faction that had run rampant in Guanzhong. This was an expert whose fame was already spreading throughout the land.

The sky sword dragon, wiji myohwa.

Rumor had it that she was a genius sent down by a mistake of heaven.

Mount Hua's Yoo Hyun was sixteen this year, the same age as Jung Yeonshin. Perhaps five years of grueling closed-door training would make him something like her.

'She must have been born and raised in Zhongnan to be the eldest martial sister at such a young age.'

It was hardly a fitting thought for Jung Yeonshin, who was at least four years younger than she was. But his short-lived constitution had made disregarding his own age a habit.

"Well, this is an honor indeed, Lady Wiji. Your renown as the Sword Dragon precedes you."

Heon Wonchang clasped his hands in a martial salute.

wiji myohwa had reprimanded her junior brothers before them. They could hardly help liking her for it, and Jung Yeonshin was no exception. Feeling he had finally met a true warrior of the Nine Great Sects, the sort he had only heard about, he followed Heon Wonchang in clasping his hands.

"I rudely drew my sword here at Zhongnan's home mountain. I am ashamed of myself, Great Hero Wiji."

He had called her Great Hero, rather than Lady or Heroine. Despite being a woman, she had earned an epithet bearing the word dragon. She was his senior, a chivalrous warrior who roamed the martial world with a single sword. The title had come naturally, in recognition of her experience and illustrious deeds, which far surpassed his own.

wiji myohwa's eyes softened. She was so beautiful that Jung Yeonshin could almost understand Heon Wonchang's foolish little "Ah."

"You may have grasped your sword hilt first, Young Master Jung, but my junior brother made the first move. I saw everything. Rather, it is I who must apologize on Zhongnan's behalf."

There was warmth in her expression as she regarded Jung Yeonshin, and her declaration that she spoke for the great and distinguished Zhongnan Sect sounded astonishingly natural. Of all the experts he had encountered since entering the martial world, she left the strongest impression after Mount Hua's Sword Saint, sage cheon joo, who was said to be a worthy rival to Ma Jin. In dignity alone, he thought she might stand above them all.

"We have kept our honored guests standing here far too long. Allow me to escort you to our sect. We can hear your business once we arrive."

"Thank you."

Jung Yeonshin offered another greeting. As he raised his head, a familiar face came into view.

It was his second elder brother, Jung Joongsan, looking utterly stunned.

* * *

"Hye-Ah is studying under the Zhongnan Sword Immortal?"

"She isn't formally his disciple, but as far as I know, she's receiving almost as much instruction as one."

Jung Yeonshin could not help being surprised by the words of Jung Joongsan, who was climbing the mountain with them. The Zhongnan Sword Immortal was said to surpass even Grand Elder Yeo Il-Shin, a member of the noble race, in swordsmanship. Though he seldom descended into the secular world, his fame reached every corner of the land.

His niece, Jung Hye, had had her talent recognized.

As relief settled over him, Jung Joongsan glanced his way with a complicated expression.

"But you... You've grown so strong I can't even fathom it. An official warrior of the Desolate Fortress, no less."

"Strong? I still have a long way to go."

Jung Yeonshin kept his words guarded even with his brother. The Desolate fortress master alone knowing how little time he had left was enough. For many reasons, he had no desire to add anyone else to that number.

"Your desire to improve is dazzling, Young Master Jung. That must be why you have already earned a blue outer robe over the Desolate Fortress's white uniform."

wiji myohwa seemed quite taken with Jung Yeonshin. Each time she spoke to him, Jung Joongsan's expression shifted. Apparently, even as a fellow Zhongnan disciple, he rarely saw this side of her.

'It's desperation, not a desire to improve.'

Just as Jung Yeonshin was thinking how difficult it was to respond politely to words that did not ring true, their temporary company reached the Zhongnan Sect's mountain gate.

"Welcome to our sect."

Behind wiji myohwa as she turned with a faint smile stretched an array of stately old halls. They were modest beside the Desolate Fortress, but there was something different about the home of one of the Nine Great Sects, where the strength of tradition had been passed down intact. Even at a glance, the halls nestled among the imposing mountains looked anything but ordinary.

"The Sect Leader and Grand Elder have gone to do battle with the Tyrant Sword Tribe Lord. Since our guests hail from the Desolate Fortress, you ought to meet the most senior elder still here."

Her words brought to mind the sword of the supreme master who had destroyed the Jeong Clan Estate. While Jung Yeonshin was reflecting on it, he and Heon Wonchang arrived at a place called the Patrol and Inspection Pavilion. They had climbed several rugged peaks along the way.

They happened upon an old man and a little girl emerging from the practice ground beside it, looking like a grandfather and his granddaughter. The girl's eyes widened.

"Uncle!"

Perhaps it was because she had lost both parents overnight. Hye-Ah ran straight to him with such yearning that it tugged at his heart, and he scooped her into his arms.

"Hye-Ah. Have you been well?"

"Uncle..."

As he reunited with the tearful Jung Hye, Heon Wonchang sniffled beside them. Eventually, Jung Yeonshin set down the reluctant child and faced the old man, who was watching him with a curious look.

"Elder Jong, they say they're from the Desolate Fortress."

wiji myohwa spoke as though addressing her own grandfather. Jung Yeonshin and Heon Wonchang offered martial salutes and introduced themselves first. Then the old man, his hands clasped behind his back, slowly spoke.

"I am Jong yeo-il."

"The Zhongnan Sword Immortal!"

Heon Wonchang, whose face had already betrayed his suspicions, all but screamed. He immediately clapped a hand over his own mouth, looking rather comical, but no one there blamed him.

"An honor to meet you, Sword Immortal."

Jung Yeonshin calmly offered another martial salute. He had seen the Desolate fortress master from a single step away. Though the man's fame inspired awe, it did not strike him with the same shock it did Heon Wonchang.

They spoke briefly. Jung Yeonshin explained that his official purpose in climbing Mount Zhongnan was to look into the welfare of commoners caught between two great factions, while his personal purpose was to make certain his family was safe.

The Zhongnan Sword Immortal, Jong yeo-il, who had been gazing steadily at him, abruptly asked a question.

"How old are you?"

"... Sixteen this year."

"Hmm...! Would you take a look at that?"

Regardless of Jung Yeonshin's private misgivings, the Zhongnan Sword Immortal raised a hand and pointed. It was a place that had already been drawing his attention. Countless strokes scored the rough face of a cliff shrouded in pale mist.

"Elder Jong?"

wiji myohwa called to him, looking baffled.

"Why would you say that to someone outside our sect? Restoring the lost Eclipse of the Nine Suns is our sect's own cherished ambition."

"The Sword Ancestor did not belong to our sect. Our late founding master befriended him and invited him to Zhongnan as an honored guest. He merely carved his martial learning into Mount Zhongnan in his final years. It cannot be called one of our sect's supreme inherited arts."

"Even so..."

Her lovely brows drew together, unconvinced. The Zhongnan Sword Immortal smiled.

"I have little time left to live. What would I not do to see my benefactor's sword again? They say you are the only genius capable of reviving Eclipse of the Nine Suns, Myohwa, but I cannot entrust my final wish to your hands alone."

His voice was unyielding. Anyone could have felt the strength of the one attachment he had been unable to relinquish at the end of his life.

"I don't understand. Even I cannot begin to grasp it. What could you possibly have seen in a young master you've only just met...?"

"Look."

Following the nod of the Zhongnan Sword Immortal, who still held his hands behind his back, wiji myohwa turned. Her eyes widened.

Jung Yeonshin had gone to the very edge of the peak and was craning his neck to stare at the cliff opposite. Behind him, Heon Wonchang fidgeted anxiously, poised as though to pull him back the instant he fell.

He was lost in utter absorption. Anyone could see it.

'Sword marks.'

The thought came to Jung Yeonshin as he studied the many trajectories carved into the cliff. They held a keen, cutting force. They looked like traces of a sword that had swept forth with overwhelming power, defying even the erosion of time.

Were these wounds left by an immortal of the blade?

The sword marks racing across the length of the cliff did not feel like the work of human skill. They made no sense unless their maker could tread upon empty air.

"The Sword Ancestor carved them. He passed away fifty-nine years ago."

The Zhongnan Sword Immortal had come to his side before he knew it. Heon Wonchang started.

"The Sword Ancestor, ouyang cheon!"

"Do you know of him?"

Jung Yeonshin asked without taking his eyes off the cliff.

"The Tyrant Sword Tribe was founded by a disciple he expelled! In other words, every sword art of the Tyrant Sword Tribe traces its roots back to that great senior, the Sword Ancestor!"

"Even after crossing swords with your fortress master, he took my hand as a child and climbed Mount Zhongnan. Apart from the Desolate fortress master, who is nothing short of a god or demon, scarcely anyone under heaven could stand against him."

In short, he had been a supreme master of tremendous power.

The Zhongnan Sword Immortal spoke of his lingering regret. Here was an aged swordsman standing at life's end, letting everything he had known scatter into futility. He said that all he had left was his benefactor's sword. Jung Yeonshin took no offense at his calling the Desolate fortress master a demon.

"Was this Sword Ancestor the one who brought you into the Zhongnan Sect, Elder?"

At Jung Yeonshin's question, the Zhongnan Sword Immortal readily nodded.

"Yes. He carried a starving orphan beggar up to the main compound on his back. Then he thrust me before our late founding master and told him to raise me."

"You called him your benefactor. Why were you unable to learn his sword?"

"... Our connection did not extend that far. Such is life. I lacked the talent as well."

The Zhongnan Sword Immortal regarded Jung Yeonshin's frank question with an odd expression, then pointed at the cliff.

"Countless swordsmen of our sect have devoted themselves to it. But these sword paths cannot be claimed through broad experience or great martial prowess. The paltry experts of our sect who know something of the sword reached a consensus: only a flash of inspiration could seize the Sword Ancestor's sword paths."

Jung Yeonshin followed his fingertip and furrowed his brow slightly, trying to see more clearly. Amid the mist on the cliff was an inscription written in a single, flowing sweep.

The Worthy Shall Obtain It. Whoever deserves it shall claim it.

"It lies entirely in the realm of talent. Our sect's hopes rest on Myohwa. She may not show it, but I know. It must weigh heavily on her."

Only then did Jung Yeonshin look away from the cliff and turn his head. wiji myohwa wore a peculiar expression. She, who was called Zhongnan's once-in-an-era genius, did not deny it.

But that was all. Their eyes met briefly, and she still looked unconvinced. Whatever her character, she simply could not understand the situation itself.

Jung Yeonshin thought that the Zhongnan Sword Immortal might be an even greater master than his maternal grandfather, Ma Yeonjeok. Until now, only the Desolate fortress master had seen through to his true nature.

'Even with a master like this, they can't defeat the Tyrant Sword Tribe outright?'

Whether Ma Yeonjeok's prowess had rusted since his prime or the Zhongnan Sword Immortal's martial arts surpassed the assessments of idle gossipers, for now, he was simply grateful for another opportunity to grow stronger.

Hye-Ah trotted over and gazed up at him. Just as he stroked her hair, the Zhongnan Sword Immortal asked,

"What did you see?"

Without a word, Jung Yeonshin drew his pure white Desolate Sword.