The mountain grew lively. While the sect was still putting things in order after repelling the attack, Zhongnan's main force of experts returned from striking one of the Tyrant Sword Tribe's branches.

A day after hearing the news, Jung Yeonshin and Heon Wonchang were able to meet the master of Mount Zhongnan. Grand Elder Yeo Il-Shin, who had shown Yeonshin kindness during the destruction of the Jeong Clan Estate, was with him.

“You have done us a kindness.”

The Zhongnan Sect Leader was an exceptionally handsome man. With ears as pointed as blades and a long yellow robe, he had the bearing of a great hero of his age.

The Western Heaven Sword Supreme, ouyang shin.

He was said to be the son of the Sword Ancestor and Yeo Il-Shin. Yeonshin understood he was seventy, yet he looked no older than thirty. He was of mixed Han and noble-race blood. His ears alone made that clear.

“Jung Hye is a child the Sword Immortal personally watches over. You saved a disciple of our sect, and it is only right that we reward you.”

Like most of the noble race, he was handsome enough to remind Yeonshin of Chung Myung, but his air was different. He had the gravity befitting the head of a sect. Gazing steadily at the two Radiant Demon Squad warriors, ouyang shin spoke.

“Tell me what you wish of our sect.”

Yeonshin felt Heon Wonchang start beside him. Apparently, he had not anticipated such a reward. Yeonshin almost felt he could hear the gears turning in Wonchang's upper dantian, which surely had not even opened yet.

He hoped Wonchang would not think of making an excessive request. Asking for something like spirit medicine would only lower their standing as honored guests. He decided to speak first.

“Please allow us to aid you in the fight against the Tyrant Sword Tribe.”

“Hmm.”

It was Yeo Il-Shin who reacted. She gave Yeonshin a troubled look, then gently closed her eyes.

Yeonshin had meant to ask why the Jeong Clan Estate had been destroyed, but he did not want to spend this opportunity on something he was entitled to know.

“Lightning Genius of the Radiant Demon Squad. I hear you recovered my late father's legacy.”

A faint stirring of emotion showed on ouyang shin's face as he spoke.

“He would not pass his secret teachings even to his own son, because I was a disciple of another sect. How ironic. To think the Desolate Fortress would take them.”

“I merely used them as inspiration for my own swordsmanship. I will neither learn nor spread Eclipse of the Nine Suns.”

“Such arrogance. How interesting.”

Had Yeonshin's composure convinced him? Perhaps he had glimpsed something of Yeonshin's unusual nature.

Yeonshin thought his maternal grandfather Ma Yeonjeok's martial prowess seemed to have fallen decidedly below its peak. Otherwise, the eyes of the Western Heaven Sword Supreme and the Zhongnan Sword Immortal could not have felt more intimidating.

“I heard through Myohwa that you imparted the formula. That, too, is an immense kindness. Even if you asked to take the vanguard, I could hardly refuse.”

In a battle between Murim powers, the vanguard was the face of the sect. This was high recognition from Zhongnan's Sect Leader. Ouyang shin's deep eyes never left Yeonshin.

Could even a man praised throughout the west for his swordsmanship never escape his father's shadow? There seemed to be a faint mixture of love and resentment in his gaze.

Yeo Il-Shin was no different. The child she had seen during the massacre at the Jeong Clan Estate had restored her husband's swordsmanship.

“Heaven works in mysterious ways. To think our ties would lead us here...”

“There is something I would like to ask you in private, Grand Elder. Things were too chaotic for me to hear it then.”

At Yeonshin's words, her face stiffened.

* * *

Wiji Myohwa raised her sword straight up, blocking the sunlight. An elegant high guard. The sunlight spilling softly from the midday sun mingled brilliantly with Mount Zhongnan's clear air. Amid it all, only her sword was not at peace.

As its name suggested, Eclipse of the Nine Suns was a single, decisive strike. It was Yeonshin who was strange for weaving repeated executions of that one stroke into a flowing sword art.

WHOOSH!

The sword path meant to cleave nine suns at once went awry. Watching beside her, the Zhongnan Sword Immortal clicked his tongue.

“You cannot concentrate at all.”

“I'm sorry. I'm only offending your eyes.”

“Is Yeonshin the problem?”

Wiji Myohwa shook her head.

“No. My own heart is the problem.”

She had already acknowledged Yeonshin's swordsmanship without reservation. Her inner demon did not stem from envy. She was not so small-minded.

It was simply that the martial talent she had built upon and ceaselessly honed throughout her life now seemed futile. It was closer to emptiness than jealousy.

“That swordsmanship he calls the Radiant Sword Art is no less than Eclipse of the Nine Suns. Did I see correctly?”

“You did.”

The Zhongnan Sword Immortal answered briefly. There was no need to say more about Yeonshin's martial arts.

“He wasn't merely at the first level of mastery. While practicing beside me, he passed straight beyond the first, into the second and even the third... I can scarcely believe he created such an advanced martial art, yet his mastery of an art he was learning for the first time, without any experience, surpassed my Eclipse of the Nine Suns.”

“That child has already achieved your goal.”

Myohwa lowered her sword and looked at him. Slowly, he continued.

“He is a Grandmaster who transcends his years. Naturally, he is quick to master an art of his own creation. It is the same with every object and discipline in human affairs. They cannot help fitting their creator best. There is no martial art under heaven for which that does not hold true.”

“His gifts must be without equal in this world. Beyond even my ability to keep up...”

“So it was with Shaolin's Great Master Bodhidharma and Wudang's founder, the Perfected Sanfeng. Depending on your outlook, living in the same age as such a Grandmaster can be a blessing. Have you yourself not received Eclipse of the Nine Suns?”

“... You're right. It is a kindness beyond measure.”

Myohwa smiled faintly. It was a smile of resignation.

Through the self-discipline she had cultivated as a Zhongnan disciple, she forced down the anguish tormenting her. Her pride as the Sword Dragon and the fire of youth cried out that she must not let him catch up, but she had no confidence she could stay ahead of Yeonshin forever.

Before long, it would be her watching his back. She chose to accept that.

A favorable breeze brushed her silken hair as if to lend her strength. Yet her grip on her sword did not immediately grow firm. She had only just prepared herself to step down from the pinnacle of her generation. She could hardly be brimming with vigor.

“... I had meant not to say this.”

The Zhongnan Sword Immortal sighed. Yeonshin might feel like a grandson to him, but that could not compare with Myohwa, whom he had truly raised as his own granddaughter.

“You must keep what you hear to yourself.”

“Pardon?”

“It concerns Yeonshin. His Baihui point, through which he communes with nature.”

Seeing her puzzlement, he continued.

“The change was minute. Yet it grows different every day. He is taking in too much of the power between heaven and earth. It is very bad. Even most peerless masters would struggle to bear it.”

“What are you saying...?”

“He has little time left to live. And still he struggles so desperately. As though trying to leave his mark upon the world.”

Myohwa's eyes widened at the shocking words. The Zhongnan Sword Immortal had clasped his hands behind his back and was gazing absently at a cloud-wreathed mountain peak.

“Regardless of martial attainment or age, I felt respect for him. I, for Yeonshin.”

* * *

After the conversation with ouyang shin and Yeo Il-Shin, word arrived that the Tyrant Sword Tribe had sent a challenge to a decisive battle. Its contents were said to be brief but forceful.

- Let us fight a pitched battle three days after Rain Water.

It was the end of the second month. In Murim, a pitched battle meant an all-out clash with a sect's fate at stake. It was entirely different from the sporadic engagements thus far.

A head-on confrontation between one of the Thirteen skies and one of the Nine Great Sects. An event that would shake the martial world had come to pass.

There was too little time for sects elsewhere in the Central Plains to react. The day of battle soon arrived.

WHOOOOSH!

The wind sweeping over the vast guanzhong plain felt harsh. This was said to be where Myohwa had earned the name Sword Dragon by cutting down the leader of an unorthodox sect.

Standing among the Zhongnan disciples, Yeonshin looked ahead. Blade-sharp energy blazed from a force that looked to number two hundred.

The Tyrant Sword Tribe of the Unorthodox Thirteen skies. They were said to crave the most domineering power under heaven.

At their head stood the supreme master from his memories. The Tyrant Sword Tribe Lord. That expressionless face was familiar. As before, he had planted his enormous sword in the earth and openly displayed his energy. Though he was a full thousand paces away, a monstrous wave of qi washed over Yeonshin.

Now that he had properly learned martial arts, Yeonshin could understand just how absurdly powerful the man had become.

“So that is your enemy, Young Master Jung.”

Heon Wonchang spoke as he glared ahead. He knew his companion's story. Perhaps their bond had deepened without Yeonshin noticing; he showed no sign of retreating.

For the first time, Yeonshin saw something in Wonchang worthy of the name Divine Hero. Holding on to his gratitude, he walked forward to where Zhongnan's Sect Leader, the Western Heaven Sword Supreme ouyang shin, stood facing the enemy.

Just then, someone had stepped out alone from the Tyrant Sword Tribe's ranks and shouted.

“The Tyrant Sword Tribe Lord's third disciple! I, wi muhyuk! Is there a rising disciple who can withstand my sword?”

It was a challenge to a vanguard duel. Such bouts were said to be as common in Murim conflicts as decisive duels between established experts. By pitting their sects' futures against each other, they could gauge the strength within and break the enemy's spirit.

Yeonshin had experienced it once through Mount Hua's Yoo Hyun.

“Sect Leader, I would now make the request you offered me.”

“Lightning Genius.”

Ouyang shin turned his head. Their eyes met.

“As the one who recovered the legacy of the venerable Sword Ancestor, your late father and the Grand Elder's husband, I ask your leave. I will step forward as Zhongnan's guest.”

“Young Master Jung.”

Myohwa looked at him. For some time now, she had worn an odd expression whenever she saw him. Countless emotions crossed her face. Yeonshin bowed his head slightly to her, then looked at ouyang shin.

'I can go out there.'

The challenge was beneath her standing. She was slightly older than this wi muhyuk, and the reputations they had built were on entirely different levels.

Ouyang shin slowly nodded. If they needed a certain victory, there was no better choice than Yeonshin among those of the same age.

“Go, then.”

“Thank you.”

Yeonshin offered a clasped-hands martial salute, then stepped forward.

Beside Zhongnan's elders, Myohwa watched Yeonshin's back. Her gaze would not leave his advancing figure.

There walked a Grandmaster burning himself away to write the traces of his life.

“Already, the boy has attained greatness.”

The Zhongnan Sword Immortal's sigh scattered into the air.

* * *

“Zhongnan's fortunes have run out.”

Those were wi muhyuk's first words upon facing Yeonshin.

Seventeen or eighteen, perhaps. His features were those of a boy becoming a young man. His scarlet martial robes were as splendid as his gleaming treasured sword. Yeonshin recalled glimpsing him at the Jeong Clan Estate. He was one of his enemies.

Looking Yeonshin up and down, he sneered.

“You. I remember. The Jeong Clan Estate, was it? You put on quite an absurd little display. I should have killed you then. How fortunate that you've come before me now.”

“You couldn't so much as lift a hand then, could you?”

“You'll die in a life-and-death duel between warriors. What grounds would the former Divine Sword Squad Leader have to intervene? He would only disgrace himself. If you're relying on the same thing as last time, how very unfortunate for you.”

Perhaps because he was the Tyrant Sword Tribe Lord's direct disciple, an arrogant refinement suffused his entire bearing. He was every inch a young nobleman.

'The Tyrant Sword Tribe Lord's disciple. I can take revenge and earn merit at once.'

Yeonshin drew his sword without a word. His gaze rested on the Tyrant Sword Tribe Lord standing far behind wi muhyuk. That sharply angular face was as indifferent as it had been then.

“Now die.”

Wi muhyuk struck as he spoke. His disregard for where his opponent was looking befitted an unorthodox warrior.

CLANG! WHOOOSH!

The exploding wave of power unleashed a fierce gust. Their crossed swords held motionless. Surprise crossed wi muhyuk's face at the sword force that did not yield an inch.

“Not bad.”

Yeonshin did not answer. Now that he had personally learned proper swordsmanship, he could see the flow a blade created. The same held true for his opponent's sword.

Suddenly, he recalled how Chung Myung had tested him when he first entered the Radiant Demon Squad. Slowly, he spoke.

“A member of the noble race I know once said he could gauge another's talent by the wind of their sword.”

“Hmm?”

“So this is what he meant.”

The instant Yeonshin smiled, gooseflesh rose along wi muhyuk's arms.

Radiant Sword Art.

The Desolate Sword in his hand caught the sunlight. At the same instant, a hazy streak of light burst forth, driving back the blade pressed against it.

“What...!”

Yeonshin's hand did not stop. Wind coiled around his whole body as he stamped down and swept past his enemy. At the end of a sword stroke that flashed pure white diagonally from the neck, wi muhyuk's head fell.

A thud sounded. The body collapsed where it stood. Yeonshin sheathed his sword without so much as looking at the corpse.

“...”

In an instant, silence settled over the plain.