It happened just then.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The bell, which ordinarily would have rung clear and pure, pealed with urgency. The faces of the Zhongnan disciples present changed abruptly.

"The Tyrant Sword Tribe!"

"They've come again."

Wiji Myohwa hastily turned toward the mountain gate. The Zhongnan Sword Immortal, who had already appeared beside her, stroked his sword hilt.

"Junior Brother Jung. Take good care of Hye-Ah."

"Our guests should wait here."

They sped away with astonishing mobility arts. Their speed was tremendous; the Zhongnan Sword Immortal all but vanished in an instant. Jung Yeonshin briefly watched Wiji Myohwa, already so distant that only her hair remained visible, then turned to Jung Joongsan.

"This doesn't seem to be the first time. Is this how you've been fighting?"

"We never know where or how we'll clash. Often, the leading experts miss each other and strike elsewhere. Like now."

Jung Joongsan's expression was grim. Things seemed to be going poorly for Zhongnan. The Zhongnan Sword Immortal, surely one of the foremost experts even among the Nine Great Sects, was guarding their home mountain. That alone spoke volumes about their shortage of fighting strength.

"I've seen the Tyrant Sword Tribe Lord several more times. The enemy who slaughtered our family invaded my sect and still acted as though he hadn't a care in the world. How I felt then..."

Jung Joongsan rubbed his forehead. The immature elder brother from the Jeong Clan Estate was nowhere to be found. In his place stood a Zhongnan disciple burdened with worry.

Heon Wonchang gave the ground a light kick.

"Trouble the moment we arrive."

"Isn't this when the Desolate Fortress Sacred Warrior should step forward?"

"Even at your urging, Young Master Jung, that won't do. Take pride away from a warrior of the Nine Great Sects and he's a corpse. Didn't we experience that earlier? If Lady Sword Dragon hadn't been there, things would have gone very badly."

"They don't look as though they can afford that pride."

Heon Wonchang could not dispute Yeonshin's last remark. Shouts were gradually drawing closer. The battle line was being pushed back.

"It seems the Zhongnan Sword Immortal has been tied down."

"I heard the Tyrant Sword Tribe has an elder council too. Apparently, they have a fair amount of history for one of the Thirteen skies. If several experts of the previous Tribe Lord's generation attack together, even a peerless master would need time. It seems this is how they've been fighting."

For once, Jung Yeonshin analyzed his enemies. It was only natural. The Tyrant Sword Tribe itself was his family's enemy. Just as he would unravel their forms, he had to master everything he needed to know about them.

"Do not speak so carelessly of our grandmaster."

It was an unfamiliar voice. Yeonshin had already faintly sensed them. Five warriors who had been hiding revealed themselves atop the Patrol and Inspection Pavilion, perhaps stationed there to protect Hye-Ah, whose talent the Zhongnan Sword Immortal had acknowledged. Every one of them possessed an upright, clear presence, unlike an unorthodox band such as the Tyrant Sword Tribe.

Yeonshin spoke slowly.

"I don't believe anything we said was disrespectful."

"Words and deeds strike people differently. Do you truly not understand that the Desolate Fortress cannot expect to be an honored guest in Murim?"

Another warrior had spoken. They showed no inclination to back down easily.

'The Desolate Fortress has many enemies.'

He felt it anew.

It was an organization that intervened in disputes and vested interests throughout the Central Plains. Even leaders of the orthodox path such as the Nine Great Sects could hardly view it kindly. Moreover, the Zhongnan Sword Immortal had shown him the Sword Ancestor's legacy and expressed his hopes. Restoring it was Zhongnan's long-cherished wish. Even if it was not an ultimate technique belonging to their sect, their feelings would be another matter.

It would have been stranger if these young warriors, whose hot blood outpaced their self-discipline, felt no jealousy. Their faces said it all. Their displeasure was plain.

"Aren't your leading experts down below? You look as though you need every hand you can get."

"Every hand we can get? Do not insult our sect...!"

Heon Wonchang had certainly overstepped a little. But their anger lasted only a moment. The Zhongnan warriors, who had begun exerting their presence, turned their heads. Yeonshin and Wonchang did the same. People were approaching from afar.

There were five sword-bearing warriors, and their presence surpassed that of the five from Zhongnan. It was hard to believe. Yeonshin had passed so many halls on his way here, yet warriors of the Tyrant Sword Tribe had appeared this deep inside.

"Kill the child first. She's inheriting the Sword Immortal's true teachings."

The man in orange martial robes who appeared to lead them spoke indifferently.

The four at his sides kicked off the ground without even replying. Air tore audibly as they rushed forward. These warriors were powerful enough to leave footprints in stone.

"How dare you!"

The blue stone tiles of the roof shattered with a boom. The Zhongnan warriors cleaved through the air.

CLANG! WHOOOSH!

Violent winds from the collision of martial force lashed their hair. Though four faced five, the sides were evenly matched.

Then the warrior who seemed the strongest walked straight through the battlefield. The Zhongnan warriors looked hard-pressed just to hold back the other four. He approached, regarding their contorted faces with mockery, then smiled as he met the eyes of Jung Yeonshin, who had hidden Hye-Ah behind him.

"Desolate Fortress brats. Tell me what brings you to the Nine Great Sects. Have you come to balance the scales again, now that our tribe has the upper hand?"

Rather than answer, Yeonshin looked at his second elder brother.

"They would have had to cross several peaks to reach here. I don't believe Zhongnan's situation is that hopeless. It looks as though these men slipped in during the battle to harm Hye-Ah. Am I right?"

"Y-yes. There's no other explanation."

While Joongsan nodded in bewilderment, Yeonshin turned to Heon Wonchang.

"I'll need your help."

"Don't worry about your back."

Apart from the unruffled Yeonshin, the only people who seemed at ease were the Tyrant Sword Tribe warrior before them and Heon Wonchang. Wonchang even wore a smile, looking oddly pleased.

"Then let's begin."

Yeonshin had refused to acknowledge the enemy at all. Just as the Tyrant Sword Tribe warrior gave an incredulous chuckle, the Movement Art's core energy raced through Yeonshin's entire body. Heavy energy rose from his legs, stirring dust. In the next instant, his stamping foot struck the earth with monstrous strength unmatched by anyone present. Dust erupted violently in all directions.

BOOM!

The pure white Desolate Sword obscured the Tyrant Sword Tribe warrior's startled face. The force wave of Formidable Wall, from the Infinite Blossom Fist Strike, rose from Yeonshin's fist and shoved the air askew.

CLAAANG! WHOOOOSH!

Gale-force winds swept outward with the collision. For an instant, every other fight stopped. As the leader staggered back after barely blocking Yeonshin's blow, two of those crossing swords with the Zhongnan disciples leaped toward him.

Yeonshin kept striking with his sword without pause. He could feel Heon Wonchang charging in beside him.

CLANG!

An astonishing wave of force. Amid the flying blades of grass, the sword in Wonchang's reverse grip flashed brilliantly. Now that he had entered a fight to the death, he was nothing like his usual self.

CLANG! CRUNCH!

The radiant demon arts' distinctive formless technique deflected an enemy sword and drove into the chest just below the collarbone. Yeonshin had no idea when Wonchang had learned so much. His momentum as he cut down enemies with an indifferent expression was tremendous. The energy called killing intent seemed sharp enough to slice the skin. Yeonshin realized anew that Wonchang's life, too, had been far from ordinary.

CLANG! BOOM!

Those thoughts passed through his unconscious mind. Thanks to Wonchang, he could maintain his one-on-one fight without interference. He pressed relentlessly, unleashing all his unique martial arts. The radiant demon arts' Swift Sword Style gave his enemy no room even to breathe. Whenever a lethal blow came his way, he evaded with a single Evading Swift Step and counterattacked in the same motion.

THUNK!

Until at last he drove the Desolate Sword into his enemy's heart.

To surrender the initiative to Yeonshin, whose upper dantian had opened, was like beginning a board game several moves behind. His enemy had not known that. The Tyrant Sword Tribe warrior's trembling lips moved.

"To a sword... with so little depth..."

SPURT!

Time froze around the sword tip as Yeonshin pulled it free in one motion. All fighting stopped. The gazes gathering on him held shock and reverence. With only the wind sweeping the peak sounding loudly around them, Yeonshin flicked his sword once and spoke.

"It has no depth. I know that too."

After all, he had created the Swift Sword Formula because he had never learned proper swordsmanship. Looking around, he saw that Wonchang had already finished off the remaining Tyrant Sword Tribe warriors. In military terms, they had defeated a detached strike force.

"... We overreacted. We apologize for our discourtesy."

"May I ask who taught you?"

"Jung Yeonshin of the Radiant Demon Squad. I won't forget it. Your name will soon resound throughout the martial world in any case."

The Zhongnan warriors who had trained in the mountains possessed a certain innocence. Their earlier pride and jealousy seemed forgotten. Having been saved and witnessed his martial prowess, they made no attempt to hide their admiration. They tried every way they could to strike up a conversation, until the Zhongnan Sword Immortal and Wiji Myohwa returned after settling the battle.

"Zhongnan is in your debt."

"I protected my family."

The Zhongnan Sword Immortal shook his head at Yeonshin's reply as the boy gently lifted Jung Hye into his arms.

"Hye-Ah will follow Myohwa as a pillar of our sect. Even if you only did your duty as her uncle, our sect still owes you a debt."

"I'm grateful that you see it that way. In that case, forgive me, but may I train here for a moment? You needn't leave on my account. A sensation came to me, and it won't release its hold on my mind."

Inspiration was ringing through him like a vibration from the crown of his head. He had privately regretted that this was hardly the right occasion, but the instant the Sword Immortal mentioned a debt, he seized the opportunity to speak.

"You've gained an insight...!"

It seemed he had made the right choice. The Sword Immortal quickly ushered everyone back. At the same time, Yeonshin glanced at the Sword Ancestor's cliff and drew the Desolate Sword.

'Every real battle brings something new.'

Thanks to the Tyrant Sword Tribe, he had been able to refine his insight. Streaks of sunlight shimmered on the pure white blade extending below the hilt he held lowered. Soon, as his arm swung, the sword began tracing a strange line. It was merely a smooth trajectory, with no particular display of power. It only seemed to hold a little more of the sun upon its surface.

"...!"

That alone made the Zhongnan Sword Immortal's eyes widen as far as they could. But Yeonshin's Desolate Sword went no farther and sank down. A ragged breath escaped him. Moving his sword after the image that had flashed through his mind was not enough. His core energy had failed to rise as he intended. Just as he had always created martial arts of his own, the sword marks on the cliff seemed to tell him to find his own sword.

"I won't be taking the Sword Ancestor's legacy for myself," Yeonshin said, steadying his breathing with the Movement Art.

"It's as though... he was saying, 'Here is another sword path. Broaden your thinking a little.' That's simply how it felt to me."

Even as he spoke, he did not understand what he meant. Not only little Hye-Ah, but Wonchang and Joongsan seemed equally lost. Only the Zhongnan Sword Immortal nodded as though he understood the true meaning. Beside him, Wiji Myohwa wore an inscrutable expression.

"They say spiritual power dwells in the traces left by a grandmaster who has established an art of their own. It transcends the boundary between martial arts and sorcery. The venerable Sword Ancestor's work must be the same. You communed with it. Heavenly fortune and talent came together."

"Ah."

Letting out that brief exclamation, Yeonshin gently closed his eyes.

"You said he spent his final years in Zhongnan. Then he must have associated with its masters. His swordsmanship bears Zhongnan's influence strongly, so it doesn't suit my body, and learning it would be an inefficient way for me to advance."

He could create martial arts suited to his own body in the first place. The speed of his progress was entirely different that way. That was why he did not copy other people's arts.

"Young Master Jung. Would you explain what you mean in more detail?"

Her fair face composed, Wiji Myohwa gazed at him. Her eyes did not stray. The Sword Dragon said to roam the heavens with such grace looked at Yeonshin alone.

"Restoring the sword form called Eclipse of the Nine Suns is entirely your task, Lady Sword Dragon. I may be able to offer a little help."

"You could...?"

"A moment. I haven't finished training."

Myohwa closed her lips. Joongsan's mouth worked as though he could not believe anyone would treat his eldest martial sister this way, but Yeonshin's awareness had already sunk into the single sword in his hand.

He had experienced something strange while looking at the sword marks on the cliff: a vision of heaven and earth overturning and collapsing into a single line. All of it had been inspiration.

Surely it should have been enough to thrust one's blade faster than one's opponent. Yet he now understood clearly why arts such as the Taiji Enlightened Sword Art and the Plum Blossom Sword were counted among Murim's supreme achievements. Exalted swordsmanship differed from mere skill in handling a sword. The intent contained within its formulas melded with core energy and sword skill, bringing forth wonders that had never existed before. Mount Hua's Plum Blossom Sword, said to make fragrant flowers bloom from a blade, was one such art. A martial warrior's swordsmanship was said to be a system that brought all these elements together.

Until now, he had not understood the sword.

'I have nothing else, so I have no choice but to stick to the Swift Sword Formula.'

It had been because he lacked depth. Now he understood.

HUMMM.

Sword resonance rang out in his grip. Wreathed along its length in cascading shards of sunlight, the Desolate Sword soared skyward. The blade traced an elegant line and descended upon the light. Transformed into a sword of radiance, the Desolate Sword drew a pure white trajectory that distinctly divided heaven from earth.

It was a sword dance.

At that moment, the legacy left by the grandmaster known as the Sword Ancestor blossomed with light in the hands of a young grandmaster. A sword that did not stop at inheritance, but soared into another heaven beyond.

Tears streamed down the Zhongnan Sword Immortal's face, furrowed by the weight of long years.

"O Sword Ancestor..."