The heir to Desolate’s Ma Clan changed expression the moment he saw Jung Yeonshin. A complicated mixture of emotions showed plainly on his face.

It did not seem to be anger and humiliation alone. What he said after approaching made that clear.

“Would you cross swords with me?”

“Your name?”

“... Ma Se-In. We never even exchanged names last time.”

“You seem to have had a change of heart.”

Jung Yeonshin gazed steadily at his maternal grandfather’s adopted grandson.

He had heard that the boy was defeating white-robed warriors one after another at the Martial Transcending Ground. He had every reason to be elated, yet he remained courteous, his face haggard.

Was introspection like this the source of a distinguished clan’s strength? There was no knowing what he had thought upon witnessing Jung Yeonshin’s skill and talent.

Ma Se-In cupped his fist in salute.

“You taught me a lesson that day. I gained much from it. Give me another chance.”

“Well...”

Jung Yeonshin returned the salute first, then considered the request.

He had to make certain his next mission succeeded. That was the only way to obtain blue robes immediately, without wasting time.

Whether the boy before him could offer him another flash of inspiration was a secondary concern.

‘I can’t fill out the framework of the Radiant Sword Art with lesser inspiration.’

This was different from when he had created the Infinite Blossom Fist Strike. The Radiant Sword Art was swordsmanship inspired by the sword paths of the Sword Ancestor, an absolute master of a bygone generation.

There was a martial arts library open to the warriors of the Desolate Fortress. Naturally, Jung Yeonshin had visited it. He did not use only martial arts of his own creation.

Beyond his newly created arts, the Desolate Fortress’s martial teachings permeated every movement he made in combat. He had worked through all their martial principles, laying a foundation on which he could create something new.

The movements of the noble race, for which Chung Myung had provided the inspiration, were also taking shape as an unparalleled movement technique.

But he could not create arts that suited his body as perfectly as the Radiant Sword Art, Evading Swift Step, and Infinite Blossom Fist Strike merely because he wished to.

The fact that martial arts recorded in books were dead was a separate issue. He simply lacked the inspiration to weave them into a martial system that satisfied him.

He needed a thunderbolt to strike his mind. Yet that wondrous lightning did not fall whenever he pleased.

“It would broaden my experience, at least.”

Ma Se-In’s offer to spar was not a bad one. The swordsmanship of Desolate’s Ma Clan would surely be of a caliber rarely seen even within the Desolate Fortress.

Just then, a light breeze stirred. Jung Yeonshin felt the hem of his robe flutter.

“A newcomer, are you? Try exchanging a few moves with me.”

Chung Myung had approached before he knew it. He tapped Jung Yeonshin’s shoulder and looked at Ma Se-In. The black patch over his left eye had a rather old-fashioned elegance.

Ma Se-In’s face brightened.

“The Azure-Eyed Demonic Swordsman...!”

“One-eyed now, actually.”

Grinning playfully, Chung Myung turned to Jung Yeonshin.

“You don’t mind if I take over?”

“Do you come to the Martial Transcending Ground often?”

“I’ll fall behind if I don’t. This organization has far too many monstrous masters.”

“It’s because of your eye.”

“Yes. I need to build up my senses gradually. A swordsman’s field of vision has been cut in half, after all.”

Chung Myung even seemed cheerful as he spoke with a smile.

An outstanding white-robed warrior would make a good training partner. Jung Yeonshin agreed.

As he watched the two walk side by side toward a corner of the training ground, Do Yoowon murmured beside him.

“How curious. The rumors must be true. They say the Azure-Eyed Demonic Swordsman treats people differently according to their talent.”

“Senior Chung Myung...?”

At his puzzled question, Do Yoowon nodded.

“He is a truly cold man. His records alone make that clear. They say he judges martial artists, as opposed to ordinary people, by unforgiving standards. Both their talent and their character. Openly giving people the cold shoulder is commonplace for him, and many an Orthodox warrior who put on a show of virtue has lost his head. That is why he is called a demonic swordsman. His standards are merciless.”

“I can’t picture that at all.”

“That is likely because your talent is so exceptional. Most other blue robes would rather avoid dealing with him, never mind the white robes. The heir to Desolate’s Ma Clan has run into the wrong man.”

Do Yoowon clicked his tongue.

‘But he didn’t treat Young Master Heon badly, either.’

While he mulled over those words, the match was decided.

Ma Se-In tried to slip into Chung Myung’s left field of vision, which would be utterly dark, but a blue robe’s martial prowess was indeed on another level.

Chung Myung seemed to have reached the point where his energy detection compensated for his blind spot. Without even looking, he thrust out his left palm and struck Ma Se-In squarely in the solar plexus. It was a remarkable palm technique. Ma Se-In spat out a mouthful of blood and sank to the ground.

Then it happened.

Had he realized something from Chung Myung’s move? Ma Se-In suddenly crossed his legs into a seated meditation posture, a smile forming on his lips. Anyone could see that he had gained an insight.

The moment he sank down, warriors in orange martial robes flew in from all directions and surrounded him. They appeared to be guards of Desolate’s Ma Clan.

Chung Myung stepped back a little, then returned with a chuckle. Glancing at Jung Yeonshin, he said,

“That fellow isn’t entirely hopeless.”

“So this is the Desolate Fortress. Everyone seems used to it.”

“You alone outshine them all in the Radiant Demon Squad, but plenty of people here were called prodigies.”

Perhaps uncomfortable dealing with Chung Myung, Do Yoowon had already drawn away. He gave a slight, silent bow.

Returning it, Jung Yeonshin felt the depth of the Desolate Fortress’s strength anew.

Chung Myung’s martial power had scarcely diminished despite losing an eye, and Ma Se-In, who had seemed nothing more than an arrogant young nobleman, had changed almost immediately. With a humbler disposition, insight came more readily as well.

It was astonishing beyond belief. Could a person really be like that?

‘This was no time to be judging the caliber of my inspiration.’

Jung Yeonshin stepped straight onto the Martial Transcending Ground’s training field.

* * *

“The fortress master wishes to commemorate your coming of age.”

He had just returned to the Radiant Demon Squad’s hall with the sunset draped over him like an outer robe. Ma Jin came to see him without warning, and his announcement sounded strange.

“Are you saying the Desolate Fortress will conduct my coming-of-age ceremony?”

“Yes.”

When Ma Jin nodded, Jung Yeonshin’s brows drew together.

‘So that’s why the Command Bureau asked whether I’d had the ceremony.’

The capping ceremony was the first of the four rites—capping, marriage, funerals, and ancestral sacrifices—conducted according to Zhu Xi’s Family Rituals.

The scholar-gentry of the Great Ming Empire held it at twenty. Murim was different. The more perilous the martial world in the region where one lived, the earlier the ceremony was held. There was not even a consistent age for it.

Murim was said to be a mysterious place. The greater a house’s prestige, the mightier its enemies became.

An early capping ceremony meant one should hurry to leave a mark as an adult, since one could die young at any moment.

But this did not concern Jung Yeonshin. His life itself was the mark he left.

“When is the next mission?”

Ma Jin sighed.

“The fortress master arranged this herself. She has acknowledged your talent and potential.”

“I wonder.”

There was simply no fathoming the Desolate Fortress Master’s thoughts.

She acknowledged his talent? If so, she could simply pluck a fruit from the world tree and bestow it on him.

There were few ways to interpret her insistence on drawing a clear line between public duty and personal matters here. Either she wanted Jung Yeonshin, pressed for time as he was, to rise to the rank of Divine Sword Squad Leader on his own, or the Desolate Fortress already had sufficient martial strength and she felt no need for more.

For now, he could not know. He had no desire to cling to fleeting hopes.

The Desolate Fortress Master was an ancient, supreme power. Even when she appeared to show goodwill, her boundaries were clear. Her cutting treatment of Ma Yeonjeok, supposedly a friend of several decades, made that plain.

“I would rather not. In one traditional hour, I could contemplate dozens of variations in my swordsmanship. Please decline for me.”

“She seems to know you better than I do. She told me to mention the reward. It is a liquor whose properties overlap with no spirit medicine under heaven. They call it Lightning Immortal Treasure Liquor. A single cup is enough to serve as a tonic for a long, healthy life.”

Even martial artists were not free from illness. Severed meridians were one example.

Thus, the skills of those physicians Murim called divine healers found use in many fields. They did not merely treat the internal and external injuries sustained in battle.

A long, healthy life. Even without expecting much, those were not words Jung Yeonshin could ignore.

“I’ll do it.”

His attitude changed abruptly.

“... Only one of those coming of age together may drink it. The Desolate Fortress’s capping ceremony is an occasion to distinguish oneself through martial prowess. Usually, children who have yet to become white robes compete for it, but this time is different. I hear a couple of white robes from distinguished clans are participating with you in mind. They will be two or three years older than you.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

He paid no attention to Ma Jin’s bewildered face. Who knew? It might slow the opening of his Baihui point, if only a little.

* * *

“The fortress master has interfered.”

Seats lined both sides of the vast, luxurious banquet hall. Ma Yeonjeok, seated at the very end of the upper row, murmured to himself.

His splendid purple robe completely covered the armrests. Below him, the scar on Ma Jin’s face creased.

“Were you planning to hold it at the clan?”

“His talent is no place for scruples.”

Ma Yeonjeok answered calmly.

Meanwhile, the boys and young men were following procedures quite unlike a scholar-gentry capping ceremony.

Even where the same elaborate formalities existed—divining, tying up the hair, and donning the cap—their substance differed. Perhaps it was the bold openness peculiar to martial artists, but the atmosphere was not solemn, either.

They wore their Desolate Fortress martial robes as they were. Among them, Jung Yeonshin, dressed in white beneath a blue outer robe, stood out unmistakably.

At the end of the lengthy proceedings, they ascended the dais one by one. The Desolate Fortress Master, clad in a green martial outfit, personally placed the caps upon their heads.

Of the twenty-five, only three were white-robed warriors.

Most had grown up in the Desolate Fortress in the first place. Cases like Jung Yeonshin and Ma Se-In, who had entered through the desolate fortress trial, were unusual.

“Congratulations.”

The Desolate Fortress Master’s red lips moved. She smoothed Jung Yeonshin’s cap once, the corners of her mouth rising gracefully.

“Lightning Genius will take no courtesy name.”

At her clear, resonant voice, the onlookers showed their agreement.

She meant that he would not receive a new name to use as an adult. Some martial artists who earned epithets early adopted those titles as their courtesy names.

For Jung Yeonshin, Lightning Genius would serve that purpose. It had become a name he would carry for life.

As the capping rites drew to a close, people began chatting casually. Quite a few appeared to have come to relieve their boredom.

“Now for the last part.”

“The finishing touch remains.”

“I wonder who will drink it this year.”

“In achievements alone, scarcely any white robe can match Lightning Genius. Hasn’t he been going without rest? I hear even the White Qilin, Namgoong Hwashin, has only just completed his first mission.”

“Even so, the underlying strength of a martial noble clan is immense. The talents of the heirs to Desolate’s Ma Clan and the Shin Clan will be beyond imagination as well.”

They seemed to be growing excited. Back in his place, Jung Yeonshin stared at the dais.

The Desolate Fortress Master was already tilting a jade flask over a white cup.

‘Lightning Immortal Treasure Liquor.’

His eyes came alive. Even when they met the Desolate Fortress Master’s deep green gaze, his spirit did not falter. With a faint smile, she spoke.

“This is a celebratory drink I bestow upon you. I shall give it to whoever seizes it first.”

The hems of the Desolate Fortress Master’s clothes began to flutter. It gave the illusion that green ripples were spreading from her body.

“Take it, if you can.”

WHOOOSH!

An immense pressure swept over him. It felt as though he were being dragged into a bottomless mire.

Even taking a single step became frightening. It was enough to make him laugh inwardly in disbelief.

And the Desolate Fortress Master could not have revealed even a tenth of her true martial power.

‘Surely it wasn’t this bad last year?’

Those who had not yet become full-fledged Desolate Fortress warriors were pushed back and knocked down.

It was remarkable that she managed not to inflict internal injuries. From what he could see, the seated guests were unaffected. Her control of internal power had reached a divine level.

“Urgh!”

Someone groaned.

Only Jung Yeonshin, Ma Se-In, and a young nobleman introduced as a son of the Shin Clan were still holding their ground.

But only one lifted his foot and moved.

Jung Yeonshin felt the wondrous wind flowing from the Desolate Fortress Master’s entire body.

The streams of pressure sweeping over him gave rise to a new thunderbolt in his mind. Amid the sensation that his soul was being drawn into her eyes, a formula that would break down the barrier of qi flowed unbidden through his thoughts.

This was communion. A sky-blue radiance flashed through Jung Yeonshin’s eyes.

His first step was not Evading Swift Step. He had simply stepped forward in the greatest possible accord with the energy.

Its purpose was different. EVADING SWIFT STEP FIRST STEP was a footfall that created an opening in combat distance.

Now the second manifested.

STEP.

A wave of qi spread from the foot he set down. Colorless ripples radiated in every direction, gently pushing back the Desolate Fortress Master’s green wind.

Evading Swift Step, Second Step. A step that pierced through pressure.

His cap flew off, and his long hair spilled loose. By then, no one in the hall was speaking.

With the strands of his black hair settling around him, he finally ascended the dais.

“You may savor it.”

The Desolate Fortress Master stepped down, the corners of her lips lifting slightly.

Just then—

“Supreme above all! Everyone in the martial world dreams as you do!”

Ma Se-In shouted from one knee, blood seeping between his clenched lips. His eyes were crimson-rimmed.

Whether it was from overexerting himself to withstand the pressure or from some surging emotion, Jung Yeonshin could not tell.

Was it because he had known nothing but success? He did not look in his right mind.

“But the martial world is not what you think! Why do you think people form sects, build noble clans, and establish alliances?”

“...”

“I have decided to follow Grandfather’s wishes. Aim for the position of Ma Clan head. With our house behind you, your standing will change yet again.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jung Yeonshin was dumbfounded. This was a public occasion. Even something true ought to be left unsaid in a setting like this.

And this concerned family affairs, no less. He thought Ma Se-In’s judgment appallingly poor, but Ma Yeonjeok did not stop his adopted grandson.

He merely watched Jung Yeonshin’s lips.

Ma Se-In continued.

“Set a date and compete against me. Defeat me fairly, with the future leadership of Desolate’s Ma Clan at stake. You can become the heir. That position far surpasses Lightning Immortal Treasure Liquor. Take my place. A mere individual who has consumed spirit medicine? A position from which you alone can wield a hundred swords is worth more than any spirit medicine.”

Another defeat seemed to have inflamed his emotions. It was difficult to tell.

Were Ma Se-In’s words his own wishes, or was Ma Yeonjeok forcing him? Jung Yeonshin thought it might be both.

“... Grandfather wishes to make you the heir instead. Do not refuse. I know you are not pleased with the idea. But there is no reason for that. To lead an organization, to be the master of a martial noble clan, takes precedence over all else. That has always been the way of human affairs, and it is the principle of the martial world as well.”

Ma Se-In finished with a long exhalation.

Jung Yeonshin looked at his collateral relative as though he were a madman.

He was bringing that up here? Did he think it would be difficult to refuse if the offer came before onlookers who knew nothing of the circumstances?

Whoever had thought of it seemed to have no shame.

Jung Yeonshin did not nod. They sought different things.

‘I might have done so long ago, if the influence of a single clan could secure a fruit from the world tree.’

The problem was that it could not. And bound to a clan, his inspiration would have no room to soar.

Jung Yeonshin understood himself instinctively.

The Desolate Fortress Master had kept his limited lifespan secret even from Ma Yeonjeok. Jung Yeonshin did not want to beg another person to save his life without offering anything in return. Nor did it seem likely to help much.

He spoke quietly.

“You called it the principle of the martial world. I, too, know it well from experience. Let me tell you.”

Jung Yeonshin stood alone and straight upon the dais.

The boy in the blue outer robe, looking down at the liquor, was a striking sight. He even bore the air of a swordsman standing alone after weathering all the world’s cruel hardships.

Slowly, he reached out.

“This...”

He curled his fingers around the cup and lifted it. A cup he had won for himself.

“...is the martial world.”

As he brought the cup to his lips, his words rang out with particular clarity. The hall had fallen silent.

Within that silence, only the sound of Lightning Immortal Treasure Liquor passing down his throat began to echo.