A blue-robed warrior of the Desolate Fortress had subdued the young head of a martial clan.

He had caught his opponent off guard and used a counter to his grappling technique. It was entirely plausible, especially since Jung Yeonshin also had the superior instinct for reading and exploiting combat paths.

"Huh. What just happened?"

"It looks as though the Supreme Flame Dragon had his pressure point sealed."

The others seemed to see things differently. The Dragon-Phoenix Summit was a regularly held banquet of martial learning, and Jung Yeonshin was a new young master who had never appeared there before. Quiet murmurs began spreading through the gathering.

"I've never seen techniques like those. His movement technique, his grappling, his pressure-point sealing. All of them."

"His Mobility Arts were truly mysterious. It was like watching the elder of my sect, who belongs to the noble race."

"What sect is he from? How could he do that to the Supreme Flame Dragon? Even if it was only one unexpected exchange..."

The atmosphere, which had seemed ready to explode with the Supreme Flame Dragon's madness, warped and slackened. It was as though a spring breeze had scattered the killing intent.

Jung Yeonshin stood quietly amid the silence.

He had disabled one of his opponent's arms. They were at extremely close quarters.

An ordinary sparring match would have ended here, but there was no telling what the seemingly deranged Supreme Flame Dragon might do. Infinite Blossom Fist Strike did not yet include a One-inch strike capable of unleashing its power at such a short distance. He prepared by drawing up a great surge of core energy.

Then the Supreme Flame Dragon muttered,

"... I'm slower...? Slow, you say?"

"If you can't even tell that much, there's nothing more to say."

Jung Yeonshin spoke calmly and withdrew his arm. He did not release the sealed pressure point. He left it that way so he could subdue the man even if he immediately went on a rampage.

'He'll undo the seal eventually through regulated breathing and circulation.'

He had heard plenty about masters who wielded yin and yang energies.

They were said to possess distinct advantages. Blazing yang energy could easily disperse another person's internal energy that had entered the body.

Seeing it firsthand was intriguing. It deserved some thought. Drawing out the properties of blazing fire through core energy? How was it done?

While Jung Yeonshin was lost in thought, the other man spoke.

"You're not even paying attention. Who do you think you are?"

The Supreme Flame Dragon's reaction was unusual. His anger was exceedingly calm. He chewed up the entire poppy, swallowed it, and spoke.

"Gu Gwa of the Truth-Seeking Sect. That one move told me how gifted you are. You'll make a name that lasts. They'll talk about you for decades after your death."

"And?"

The finest provocation, he had been told, was to mock an opponent's private troubles.

Chung Myung had taught him that before he left on the mission. That was why he had remained quiet to hear what the Supreme Flame Dragon would say.

"Do you know what it feels like to have your feet carry you toward the abyss of their own accord? You have everything. Your complexion is excellent. How does it feel to possess talent that exacts no price?"

"What?"

Those words dampened even his interest in the man's fiery core energy. They struck him as paltry.

He would rather have fought this pressure-point-sealed fellow at close quarters.

The Supreme Flame Dragon continued, his fingertips trembling.

"I was born with yang energy of the utmost intensity. I grew stronger even when I wasn't practicing a mental cultivation method. My sharpened senses came with the pain of my pressure points burning. That is what my attainment is. Martial power built up in an effort to change my constitution through profound internal cultivation. It isn't something for you to belittle as slow!"

Was it because he had acknowledged Jung Yeonshin's talent?

He rambled on as though drinking with a close friend. Jung Yeonshin was embarrassed on his behalf.

It was welcome as far as the mission was concerned, but this unfamiliar sort of person also felt strange to him. The shadows beneath the Supreme Flame Dragon's eyes weighed on him. Slowly, he spoke.

"What do you expect me to do about the truth? It isn't as though you have martial skills that can overcome my talent."

"You dare!"

"I called you slow because you're slow. There's nothing wrong with that. Only you know your own pain. No one else can understand it."

By the end, Jung Yeonshin had found himself speaking about his own life.

He had noticed it over the course of several missions. Unlike spiritual practitioners such as the disciples of the Nine Great Sects, people of the martial world tended to anger easily. Merely telling them the truth could do it. He could not understand why, but he expected the same result now. He was making an effort to provoke a strong backlash.

This was his first deliberate provocation. It was bound to work.

"Only I know...? I've never heard that before. Everyone said they understood. That Mount Hua fellow just said it too."

His reaction was strange.

The Supreme Flame Dragon's lips trembled like those of a mute speaking for the first time.

He was a genius afflicted with the strange condition known as Solar Divine Meridians. Anyone would have found it difficult to understand his inner world.

"Someone who understands the trajectories of my combat paths says he doesn't know me? Are you calling talent destined for a futile, early death insignificant? The elders of my clan kept me there because of their nauseating expectations."

The tension was leaving his eyes.

The clear gleam peculiar to masters of orthodox martial learning returned. The madness visibly dispersed from his gaze.

His presence was pure and lucid, so much so that he no longer looked intoxicated by wine and poppies.

At last, an unprecedented warmth seemed to enter his expression.

Jung Yeonshin sensed danger. Mission failure flashed through his mind.

"If I were you, I would have severed ties with my clan and joined the Desolate Fortress. They say the fruit of the world tree cures every illness. It should work on Solar Divine Meridians too. Talking about life without making even that much effort? Ridiculous. However many years you have left, it's already too late."

"Ha ha! You're worried about me! Does it pain you so much to lose someone gifted enough to discuss martial arts with you?"

"I said you were slower than me."

His thinking was incomprehensible. Years of suffering seemed to have driven him mad. The mistake had been approaching him with provocations that would work on an ordinary person.

'I'll have to give it time and try again.'

It was an unexpected obstacle. Jung Yeonshin turned away at once.

No provocation seemed likely to work now. He needed help from Heon Wonchang and Shin Sobin, who were watching from a distance with peculiar expressions.

'I can't cut off the Supreme Flame Dragon's limbs in the middle of the Dragon-Phoenix Summit.'

That would almost certainly make him a common enemy of orthodox Murim. Since that was out of the question, provocation was his objective.

Even the chase involving the Hwangbo clan's martial forces, envisioned as the mission's final stage, would be difficult.

"Where are you going? Come drink with me. You're someone I'd welcome. I'll treat you to a specially aged Shaoxing yellow wine."

"Your meager talent would spoil the wine. I don't share a table with insignificant people."

Despite those harsh words, the man laughed heartily. Completely mad. Jung Yeonshin shook his head inwardly.

He looked away to find Yoo Hyun, who had been sprawled in the distance. He saw him getting to his feet unaided.

There seemed to be no other Mount Hua disciples with him, and he looked terrible. Jung Yeonshin hurried over and asked,

"What about the elder from your sect who came with you?"

"Ah, it's been a while. As you can see, the summit decided to send them all out. They said we couldn't get to know each other freely with our elders watching. Anyway, thank you. Just what I'd expect from... er, Gu Gwa."

He changed his wording as though he had heard the Supreme Flame Dragon speaking. Jung Yeonshin saw his eyes move.

He was as perceptive as expected. He had glanced at the Desolate Fortress insignia—the character meaning 'desolate'—and confirmed that it was covered with another piece of cloth.

Jung Yeonshin spoke.

"You're not angry, then. I interrupted your match."

"It should have ended long ago. We weren't evenly matched. But you..."

"Hmm?"

Yoo Hyun was renowned throughout Shaanxi Province as a peerless prodigy. It was unlike him to trail off.

"You've become unbelievably strong. It feels like you're in a different realm altogether. I've made progress too, but... Hmm? Now that I look at you..."

He seemed to have finally noticed the color of Jung Yeonshin's martial robes beneath his long outer robe.

His expression grew complicated. Such was the significance of the Desolate Fortress's blue robes.

Their wearers were said to stand on par with the finest elites of the Nine Great Sects. Below sect leaders and elders, they were masters of the highest order.

Jung Yeonshin and Yoo Hyun were close enough to be called friends. He had heard plenty about it.

As the sect leader's youngest disciple, Yoo Hyun dreamed of becoming one of Mount Hua's Plum Blossom Swordsmen. A blue robe was a position equivalent to his ambition. Jung Yeonshin could imagine how he felt.

'We have different amounts of time to live.'

Jung Yeonshin swallowed the words.

He turned his gaze. Others were approaching ahead of Heon Wonchang and Shin Sobin.

Young men and women of outstanding presence. They were the rising talents of the Dragon-Phoenix Summit who had been at Lotus Pavilion.

'Orthodox martial lineages, all gathered in one place. Some from between the two paths as well.'

To Jung Yeonshin, they did not register as people. Those faces, unable to hide their curiosity, looked like new branches of martial arts.

"Never in my life have I seen anyone speak so harshly to the Supreme Flame Dragon. I am Wi Muryeong of the Zhangbai Sect."

"Eun Rimyeong of the White Blade Sect in Southern Zhili. Your combat paths were remarkably inventive. Where did you learn them?"

"The Truth-Seeking Sect, was it? With a young talent like you, Young Master, it will soon soar. It has been a long time since a dragon rose from a small or medium sect. Now another talent to rival the Sword Dragon and Supreme Flame Dragon has appeared."

They gathered around one by one. Was it because his opponent had been the Supreme Flame Dragon?

They must have heard his words and seen his conduct, yet they seemed to have little objection.

He returned their greetings, fully taking in their presences.

'Good.'

What Jung Yeonshin had lately been trying to create was an internal martial art—a discipline for drawing in energy.

The varied presences manifested by these young talents' core energy were all sources of inspiration.

To increase the art's rate of qi accumulation, he had to consider stability as well. Orthodox martial learning was the ideal foundation.

"A rootless mongrel, nothing more."

He was pleased to see Hwangbo Myeongrin glaring murderously at him from one side.

The young talents of prestigious martial clans had gathered around her. None of them approached Jung Yeonshin.

Then someone spoke.

"I hear Shaolin, Wudang, and Zhongnan have sent people too. I wonder when they'll arrive."

Jung Yeonshin immediately thought of the little divine monk Gak jung and Sword Dragon wiji myohwa. This was the Dragon-Phoenix Summit of orthodox Murim.

The disciples gathering here seemed to represent nearly thirty percent of the orthodox factions of the Central Plains.

'This is getting bigger.'

And it was not just the young talents. The Namgoong clan here in Huizhou had already begun fighting the Thirteen skies.

To accomplish this mission's objective, he had to draw in the Hwangbo clan as well. Nor could he overlook the Thirteen skies, who had fought the Namgoong clan.

There was no telling how violent the current would become. Just as Jung Yeonshin renewed his vigilance, a voice spoke.

"This will do nicely."

An eerie voice rang out with powerful resonance. For an instant, he sensed exceptionally profound internal energy.

THUD! THUD!

Corpses of warriors in blue martial robes came flying in from several directions. They appeared to be Namgoong clan warriors who had been secretly guarding the surroundings.

The young talents reacted instantly.

SHING!

Swords were drawn on every side, their sounds ringing as one. No one was careless enough to ask the intruders' identity first.

Eyes flashing, they stared at the uninvited guests.

"Whenever the Dragon-Phoenix Summit opens, the unorthodox vermin come swarming. It happened yesterday too. Namgoong shuts its gates, and every sort of gnat starts gathering."

"Isn't that only natural, when we're doing this in the open? My clan alone has more enemies than I can count."

"Let's finish this quickly."

The young talents' calm reactions received an even more casual reply.

"The informant was right. Even the brats of the hypocritical orthodox factions are here. How delightful."

"A fine reaction. Yes. A common enough occurrence in the martial world."

Many figures approached without a sound of footsteps. Black strands mingled with blood-red hair, and sinister qi rippled from them.

There looked to be twenty Blood Master Swordsmen. Their crimson gazes were fixed on Jung Yeonshin.

They had appeared almost as soon as he had entered Huizhou and begun spending time at Lotus Pavilion. It seemed deliberate.

Ma Jin had already told him: having revealed a martial art that could become the Blood Flame Cult's bane, he would have become their highest-priority target for elimination.

'So it was true.'

He had learned over several missions that the Blood Flame Cult's influence was said to have grown to an uncanny degree.

An evil cult of that immense size was mobilizing every resource to kill Jung Yeonshin.

He had been told that because it was an unorthodox faction whose martial power was rooted in sorcery, the longer he spent in the martial world, the easier he would be to track. That tracking was itself part of its sorcerous martial arts.

Had the Dragon-Phoenix Summit been held inside the Namgoong estate, this would not have happened. Even the Desolate Fortress had not foreseen it.

"The Blood Flame Cult?"

"Shit."

"That many Master Swordsmen... How many branches joined forces?"

Many let out troubled murmurs. Even Jung Yeonshin, with his limited experience in the martial world, had encountered them more often than he cared to.

The young talents who had begun roaming the world before him must have as well. They seemed to regard this as a terrifying force.

Hwangbo Myeongrin's face had gone pale in the distance.

The Supreme Flame Dragon, who had not yet undone Jung Yeonshin's pressure-point seal, looked grim as well.

This was the martial world. A place where inevitability and coincidence intertwined to produce corpses without warning.

Driving away a third-rate sect yesterday was no guarantee that a major sect would not visit tomorrow.

Even the Namgoong clan behind its locked gates might have been dancing in the Blood Flame Cult's palm.

Everyone would die.

It was an old unorthodox tactic. Slaughter the heirs of hostile orthodox factions, and even their established masters would inevitably be affected.

In the world of masters, where the slightest margin mattered, it opened an enormous psychological gap.

"..."

Only the sound of flowing water filled the air, its ripples endlessly catching sunlight.

Had the river beneath the pavilion begun to look like the River of Three Paths? Some of the younger talents swallowed hard.

'This is good.'

Jung Yeonshin circulated his core energy according to the established formula.

At once, sacred Buddhist Dharma power began rising throughout his body.

Wrapping his right hand in internal energy, he felt a private sense of anticipation. The Blood Flame Cult's Seventh Apostle had lost an eye to this martial art.

He hoped they had brought a counter.

If he could counter their counter in turn, he would gain something from it.

His was a life that demanded rapid growth in strength. He had to use every means available.

"You."

One Blood Master Swordsman stepped forward. He had the most black hair of the group.

The Master Swordsmen's martial prowess was said to vary enormously. The presence emanating from this one alone was extraordinary.

"In a bustling city like Huizhou, nowhere escapes our Cult's eyes. Yet you crawled in, knowing an order had been issued to hunt you down. Those orthodox imbeciles knew nothing. You're none other than..."

"Then you must have come knowing about this too," Jung Yeonshin said.

Pale blue currents gathered around both hands hanging at his sides. This was his own unique martial art, found nowhere else beneath heaven.

The moment the Demon-Slaying Gentle Flowing Strike manifested above the sun-drenched water, a majestic wave of qi spread from his hands.

HUMMMM!

His energy was purer and more lucid than anyone else's there. A wave like sky-blue mist spread in every direction.

Was it because he had accumulated a considerable amount of qi to create his mental cultivation method?

Without even swinging his hands, he pushed back the entire group's emanating qi. His power was their absolute antithesis.

For a moment, no answer came. Puzzlement entered Jung Yeonshin's face.