“Dharma-powered martial arts! Can it truly be...!”

Won jong cried out in astonishment as he looked at Jung Yeonshin. He seemed so shocked that the wrinkled corners of his eyes trembled. The Seventh Apostle, by contrast, looked quite at ease.

“Easy to tamper with? It looks like martial learning on the level of Shaolin’s arts. It merely has a certain advantage against Blood Art. Not enough to overcome the difference in our actual prowess. You are still infinitely beneath me, child. How adorable.”

The Seventh Apostle smiled as she spoke. At the same instant, her figure seemed to break apart and vanish. The wave of qi that blazed up, as though she had finally gotten serious, was tremendous. This time, even Jung Yeonshin could not react.

BOOM!

Ma Jin blocked her path. The air crumpled under the collision of the two supreme masters.

A terrifying presence rose from him as he stepped forward. The Radiant Demon Squad captain’s great saber seemed to possess enough force to push back the Seventh Apostle’s hand. Her eyes narrowed.

“Captain of the Radiant Demon Squad. So you really have staked a great deal on that Lightning Genius brat?”

“Shut your mouth.”

“Attack.”

The Blood Flame Cult members responded to the Seventh Apostle’s brief murmur. It was the signal for a melee.

They surged in from every direction, encircling them with military discipline. So many pressed in that it began to feel as though they had been dropped into the heart of a war. Blood-red hair filled every direction. The keen menace of all manner of blades approached from all sides like converging echoes.

Jung Yeonshin saw eyes opened wide with madness. Something beyond human lurked in every pair of red pupils.

Men just like the murderers he had seen at the Jeong Clan Estate swarmed all around him. His grip tightened on his sword.

CLANG!

He slashed upward. One man’s saber shattered completely. He stepped forward and cut through the man’s neck as well.

The brief resistance of bone passed, and the smoothly curving trajectory entered the realm of higher swordsmanship. The Desolate Sword in his hand began tracing its path, giving off a hazy light.

‘Radiance.’

A streak of light flowed like a wave. Everything that followed was a sword strike.

The Radiant Sword Art he had created on Mount Zhongnan possessed an unbroken flow. It was different from when he had relied on the Swift Sword Formula alone. Without exerting much strength, he could sweep past three swords and send five heads flying.

“We have to pin down his hands!”

“Sink your teeth into his neck!”

The Blood Flame Cult bastards were out of their minds. They attacked by means he had never even considered.

Throwing their bodies at him was commonplace. They tried to seize his arms and legs and hang on, as though determined to exploit every blind spot. Some even scattered coins like hidden weapons. Every coin carried core energy, forcing him to deflect or evade them.

Jung Yeonshin had just used EVADING SWIFT STEP FIRST STEP to slip past a crescent-shaped bladed ring.

“Lightning Genius! This way!”

Baek Miryeo’s shout was swallowed by the force waves from the Blood Master Swordsmen’s strikes. There were far more than one or two of them. Over twenty men who could have ruled like kings over an entire county were here.

‘The captain is tied down by the Seventh Apostle, and the Blood Master Swordsmen outnumber our blue robes.’

His instincts for group combat let him assess the battle. Chung Myung and Baek Miryeo were said to be outstanding even among the blue-robed masters. The other blue robes, too, stood their ground against multiple Blood Master Swordsmen. The person Jung Yeonshin needed to worry about was himself.

He circulated the formula of the Infinite Blossom Fist Strike through his left hand, then unleashed a wave of force from his clenched fist.

The air tilted and warped. A blow of the second strike, Formidable Wall, smashed the bladed ring and its wielder’s head together.

THUD!

Had the man been on the verge of becoming a Blood Master Swordsman? The force rebounding against his knuckles was considerable.

Even so, it had taken only one blow. A Radiant Demon Squad senior who was relatively close by looked over in surprise.

‘It still isn’t enough.’

He could not break the deadlock. He did not yet have the strength to dictate the course of a battle between supreme masters.

That, he had been told, was the province of the Desolate Fortress’s black robes. Unless Ma Jin killed the Seventh Apostle, this situation would not be easily resolved.

SLASH!

A swift-sword form of the Radiant Sword Art sent another head flying in a single stroke. The man died without even sensing the attack.

At the same time, Jung Yeonshin turned his attention inward. The martial art that had stirred when he caught the Seventh Apostle’s dagger had subsided again. He could not summon it at will. Perhaps that was because its formula had yet to take definite shape.

“Haaah!”

An aged roar rang out close to Jung Yeonshin’s left. He turned to see Master won jong thrusting out a palm technique with a shout. The wave of qi he gave off did not feel particularly powerful.

‘Did he call himself a monk of martial study?’

They were monks who investigated martial principles and formulas. Some said Shaolin’s underlying strength came from them. Their achievements out in the martial world, however, fell short of those of the fighting monks, so they seldom made names for themselves.

Then it happened.

“He hasn’t managed to deal with even one of us.”

“Kill the old monk first.”

Two Blood Master Swordsmen approached Master won jong. Harming a monk had been taboo in every age, yet these men showed no hesitation.

It meant the Blood Flame Cult’s doctrine was unconstrained by the conventions of the world. That was what made them unorthodox.

Jung Yeonshin swept his surroundings with every sense. Somehow, he had ended up far from the Radiant Demon Squad.

What did it matter that he could perceive everything around him? Controlling the distance as he wished in a melee of masters was another matter entirely. At this moment, he was the only person who could help won jong.

He kicked off the ground. The wind of his own movement brushed the corners of his eyes. The men with their chilling smiles rapidly grew larger.

A hazy cluster of light appeared at the edge of his vision—the herald of the Radiant Sword Art gathering on the Desolate Sword. He cleaved straight through the gale sweeping over the back of his hand.

SWISH!

As one man turned, a stroke of the Radiant Sword Art swept upward through the space between his brows.

He fell dead on the spot. The strike did not stop. It collided with the other man, who had already turned and prepared himself.

CLANG!

“What sword force...!”

Bewilderment entered the Blood Master Swordsman’s eyes.

Jung Yeonshin had no room to relax. The very fact that the man could speak proved he still had strength to spare. The Blood Flame Cult trusted in its numbers. Its evil creed only helped it spread more widely. It was a paradox.

“Master! Head north!”

Jung Yeonshin finally made his decision. Before the attack, Ma Jin had mentioned the Heavenly Sword Clan. If he had anticipated their being scattered like this, it was only right to consider that option.

Following the combat path of the radiant demon arts, he kicked the Blood Master Swordsman behind the knee. The kick carried core energy amplified by the Classic of Initiating Transcendence.

The man crumpled with a thud. Jung Yeonshin cut through his neck and passed him by.

SLASH!

Master won jong emerged from behind the man’s body, his eyes wide.

“I suspected you were extraordinary when you sparred with Gak jung...! But how can you possess such martial arts at your age...?”

“That is of no consequence. Let us move.”

The battlefield kept expanding, all the more because the Radiant Demon Squad and Shaolin were so strong. They had left the Xinye White Martial Sect’s grounds long ago and had now reached the marketplace.

“How far are we going?”

“Ask them!”

The Blood Flame Cult seemed determined. The hundred or so men had not been their entire force.

Watching cultists pour in without end, he could only wonder what the government troops were doing. He had never realized Xinye County was this rotten. On this scale, it was a major war by Murim standards.

Fortunately, their escape route was a good one: it took them past the tavern where the Radiant Demon Squad had lodged. They retrieved two fine horses and mounted immediately. He did not worry about his companions.

‘If I can get out, all of them can.’

Of the Radiant Demon Squad masters on this mission, only Heon Wonchang was weaker than Jung Yeonshin. Even he was not much cause for concern.

Heon Wonchang was a master who had layered killing swordsmanship over the radiant demon arts. It meant he was thoroughly versed in killing. In a melee, that swordsmanship would prove more useful than almost any other martial art.

“This way!”

Jung Yeonshin snapped the reins, and won jong followed. Only the sound of galloping horses rang through the streets.

Every house around them had its doors barred, its inhabitants trembling in silence. Jung Yeonshin felt sorry for them, even as his thoughts returned to his companions.

Going back might only make him a burden. The Seventh Apostle was still a master beyond his ability to handle. Staying away from a battlefield where he could not protect himself was the way to help.

The old monk who had briefly become his companion seemed to understand that too. Riding beside him, Master won jong spoke.

“They do not seem to be pursuing us.”

“Even most Blood Master Swordsmen would struggle to outrun horses with their lightness skill. And we killed two of them.”

“You did.”

With that, he fell silent. His feelings seemed complicated.

Unconcerned, Jung Yeonshin pictured the geography of Henan Province.

A map of the Central Plains was a treasure that only those of captain rank or higher in the Desolate Fortress could consult, but Ma Jin had made him memorize the relevant area for this mission.

‘We’ll have to cross the river.’

Before long, the horses reached the water. They were entirely outside Xinye County now.

“Let us take that boat.”

“That flower-viewing boat?”

He had been wondering whether they would have to abandon their valuable horses, but a pleasure boat happened to be cruising leisurely nearby. It was a sizable flower-viewing boat with an awning over its center.

This was the season when young people enjoyed the spring air. Perhaps it was one of the boating outings so common at this time of year. Still, with what had just happened nearby, he could not let down his guard.

“Come here.”

Master won jong projected his words with core energy.

“What?” Jung Yeonshin muttered.

Having devoted his life to Buddhist teachings and martial formulas as a monk of martial study, he seemed to have little experience of the world. For a master who had spent over ten years in wall-facing meditation, he had a rather eccentric streak. Perhaps he had been someone of high station before becoming a monk.

The pleasure boat changed course and began approaching. Jung Yeonshin’s brow furrowed slightly.

He had spotted ten warriors standing as though on guard. The young men and women among them, watching him with peculiar smiles, were a secondary concern. Swords were expensive in this world. Warriors with both the character and skill to merit keeping close were not easy to find.

‘Children of prominent families? They seem properly trained.’

He was remembering Jin Yul, who had approached him with feigned friendliness and attempted to assassinate him. Now that the boat had drawn closer, it looked even larger. Its fine timber hull was neatly fitted together. Nothing about it looked ordinary.

It was not the young noblemen holding wine cups who spoke first.

“You seem to be in need of traveling companions, venerable monk.”

A young lady who looked like the daughter of a powerful family rose and approached the rail. Was she about eighteen? Her adornments suited her dazzling beauty, and she seemed to be the center of the group.

Looks meant little to Jung Yeonshin. His eyes went to the treasured sword at her waist.

He could feel waves of qi. She was a martial artist. Which school did she belong to?

Looking at her, he spoke.

“The master has been so devoted to his spiritual practice that he has neglected his manners. Please forgive him.”

“What is this brat saying?”

Master won jong whipped around to look at him, while she laughed aloud.

“I was getting a little bored. This is amusing. Would you like to come aboard? As you can see, we have ample room for a couple of horses.”

He sensed no particularly mighty qi. Jung Yeonshin inclined his head slightly and boarded, ignoring Master won jong’s sidelong glare.

The interior was even more lavish than the exterior. It was difficult to tell whether he was aboard a boat or in a banquet hall. Those seated around it greeted him with their eyes. Most were young men around the lady’s age, and apparently saw no need to rise and offer a formal greeting.

The young lady sat down and gave a slight nod.

“I am Hwoe Dam, one of the Martial Alliance’s rising generation disciples. My fellow martial artists call me Sword Flower.”

The epithet describing a flower gifted with the sword was beside the point. In that instant, Jung Yeonshin’s martial world expanded.

The Martial Alliance. Another of the Thirteen skies. It was said to possess power no less formidable than the Tyrant Sword Tribe or the Blood Flame Cult. He had stepped into a gathering of young talents from factions of the evil and unorthodox paths.

‘The Martial Alliance leader’s successor doesn’t seem to be here.’

No one looked particularly strong. Perhaps his standards had risen too high. Strictly speaking, these people were likely promising talents of the Martial Alliance too.

A young nobleman seated close to Sword Flower rested his chin on his hand at ease.

“You appear to be a warrior of the Desolate Fortress. What brings you across the river in such haste?”

“A band of Blood Flame Cult members is running rampant nearby. We fled while I was listening to the monk’s sermon.”

Jung Yeonshin told the truth and studied their reactions. They had said they belonged to the Martial Alliance. The Thirteen skies were not a single confederation, but they often cooperated. There was a good chance these people already knew what was happening in Xinye County.

And indeed they did.

They all smirked with peculiar expressions. The young nobleman smiled.

“The Desolate Fortress tucks its tail before the Thirteen skies. How entertaining.”

Laughter broke out all around. This had never been merely a boating outing for the children of wealthy families. Seemingly refined mockery filled the boat.

“Do you know? Those bloodsucking fiends were worried small fry like you might escape. I never expected to catch one of Shaolin’s monks of martial study as well.”

“And this happens to be the best place in the world to silence someone.”

Sword Flower smiled faintly. She seemed to be referring to the water. A body tossed overboard would be difficult to find.

The boat drew farther and farther from shore. There was no turning back now.

“Amitabha.”

Master won jong quietly invoked the Buddha, and Jung Yeonshin silently reached for his sword hilt.

“You don’t seem very frightened, brat,” Sword Flower murmured. She already held her sword.

“Shall we spill a little blood first?”

With those casual words, a wave of qi rose from Sword Flower’s slender body. She immediately drew her sword in a motion that seemed to prove her epithet. The rising sword light went in an unexpected direction.

A woman bringing food widened her eyes, not understanding what was happening. She seemed to have no connection to the Martial Alliance.

This was why they belonged to the evil and unorthodox paths. Human life meant nothing to them.

Seated opposite her, Jung Yeonshin was already circulating the Movement Art.

He rose and took a single step, splintering the wooden floor with a crack. Gently pulling the woman’s arm with his left hand, he moved forward himself.

With anger rising like mist along the river, he thrust out the Desolate Sword. Rays from the Radiant Sword Art dyed that mist white. The blade struck like lightning, racing in a streak of pure white.

It knocked Sword Flower’s blade aside and sped on like a shudder, slicing through her neck.

SPURT!

‘Hm?’

He was stronger than even he had realized. Averting his eyes from the rolling head, he reset his stance.

“No tricks.”

Jung Yeonshin spoke quietly. The men reaching for their weapons in shock flinched.

The mockery that had filled the boat gave way to fear and panic. Sword Flower had been the strongest among them.

“How could a sword strike like that...?”

The young nobleman stammered.

The others could not even open their mouths. Now they looked less like the children of prominent houses than underlings of the evil and unorthodox paths. The only difference was how well their eyes could discern the true quality of that single stroke.

They were on the water with a hostile master far above them. Was there any greater terror in the martial world?

“She... she was the cherished daughter of Sung Manor of the Martial Alliance! Do you not fear the consequences?”

“You should be worrying about the consequences of crossing the Desolate Fortress. You meant to take our heads. For now, I’ll settle for going north. I’ll decide what to do with you then. Row the boat yourselves.”

Having lost all interest, he even sheathed his sword. Jung Yeonshin’s face was impassive.

‘The Martial Alliance must have its real elites elsewhere.’

Had his thoughts shown on his face? The young nobleman turned scarlet.

“I said she was Sword Flower of Sung Manor! Do you truly not know who she is?”

“I haven’t introduced myself.”

He tapped his sword hilt.

“Lightning Genius of the Radiant Demon Squad.”