No one would readily admit to that. All the less if they claimed to belong to the orthodox path.

Hwangbo Myeongrin scoffed again. Not so much as an eyebrow twitched.

"I used your junior sister as bait? You must have been seeing things. Or perhaps..."

The corners of her mouth curled upward in a smile that seemed utterly untroubled.

"Are you trying to slander me? You mongrel with no pedigree."

"Aren't you the one without any breeding?"

It was not Jung Yeonshin. The hand he had held out to restrain his two companions was pushed back as Heon Wonchang brushed past it.

The Desolate Fortress Sacred Warrior stepped forward and spoke. His faint smile as he adjusted his hero's headband made a picturesque sight.

"Calling people mongrels hardly suggests an educated upbringing."

"What?"

"You must have been granted countless spirit medicines since childhood. I hear your Shandong has a cuisine called Lu cuisine. Among its dishes, I understand those made by wrapping all manner of ingredients in dumpling skins are particularly fine. Perhaps you tore pages out of the Four Books and Three Classics one at a time and wrapped them in your medicine to eat. Is that how your family taught you the principles of Confucius and Mencius? They called the Hwangbo clan a distinguished house. Apparently that was empty talk."

His words flowed like a rushing river.

"How dare a lowborn wretch...!"

For a moment, Hwangbo Myeongrin's mouth fell slightly open. Heon Wonchang regarded her with a sneer.

"They say Shandong food is salty, yet your words are utterly insipid. Two people witnessed your foul deed, and you brazenly deny it? I had never heard that the regional noble clans of Shandong's Murim harbored such a sorry specimen as Hwangbo Myeongrin. Have any of you?"

Heon Wonchang looked around as he asked. One by one, those whose eyes met his averted their gazes.

A broad, untroubled smile touched his lips.

"You have a death wish!"

Hwangbo Myeongrin advanced a step with her footwork. Fierce waves of qi gathered around both hands.

Beside her, Jung Yeonshin's hand blurred.

CRACK!

Her body spun through the air. He had added internal power to the strength of his body, honed through the Movement Art, and struck upward across her cheek.

"Puh!"

The instant Hwangbo Myeongrin landed in a crumpled heap, the rising disciples of the other noble clans assumed their opening stances. The swords and sabers in their eight pairs of hands flashed in the bright sunlight.

"If what you say is true, this too is justified. But please understand our position."

"There is no neutrality in the martial world. If we cannot determine the truth, we can only side with those whose friendship we share."

Two of the young disciples spoke, a faint wariness in their voices. They were unlike those who had shown Jung Yeonshin goodwill after his exchange with the Supreme Flame Dragon.

He had heard that belonging to the orthodox path did not make everyone alike. The disciples of the Nine Great Sects served Buddha or the Primordial Heavenly Lord. As ascetics in the mountains, most stood above the pursuit of fame and profit.

Noble clans were different. The term denoted powerful families whose influence endured through the generations. They professed righteousness while pursuing profit. Their ways of putting chivalry into practice diverged completely.

Some outspoken commentators, powerful martial artists themselves, reportedly said without hesitation that true champions of justice were hard to find outside the mountain sects.

'I heard some of them enjoy performing chivalrous deeds.'

Not these scions of noble clans. The proof stood before him: the powerful closing ranks.

Hwangbo Myeongrin held the reins of this group. Its very makeup dictated as much. Southern Zhili lay below Shandong. The Hwangbo regional nobles reportedly conducted themselves like royalty in Jinan, Shandong Province. The children of nearby martial clans could hardly treat them as equals.

'Hwangbo Myeongrin's side was more valuable.'

He had deliberately spared her life, exercising his discretion as a blue robe. The Supreme Flame Dragon was a young clan head already doomed to die. They seemed to use him merely to glorify the clan's reputation. The brother and sister Jung Yeonshin had beaten were the Hwangbo clan's true future.

"I've heard there are creatures called spirit beasts," Jung Yeonshin said.

A young man hurried over to support his younger sister. He was the one who had picked a fight with Jung Yeonshin on the highway to Huizhou and been knocked down with a single blow. Apparently he was the Hwangbo clan's second young master.

"You bastard, after what you've done..."

"I'm speaking."

Jung Yeonshin merely looked at him, and he flinched. The second young master turned his eyes away, unable even to meet his gaze.

"I hear the noble race raises intelligent beasts using their clans' secret arts. They call them spirit beasts."

"..."

"They say these animals understand human speech and possess wondrous abilities. Summon your clan's warriors. As many as possible. The Blood Flame Cult might bring reinforcements, mightn't they?"

The Eight Great Families of the martial world were regional noble clans in name alone. They possessed territorial foundations as secure as princely estates and martial arts of the highest order.

This was a world where spirit beasts could be bought with gold. A direct descendant of the Hwangbo clan was bound to carry at least one creature for sending messages.

A carrier pigeon or anything else would do. Shandong was not far from here. He needed to keep them sending word, so that the moment part of the Hwangbo clan's martial forces left their posts, the Desolate Fortress could secure grounds for punishment and march north at once.

Sure enough, as he finished speaking, a wing stirred inside the second young master's robes. It belonged to a small bird resembling a swallow.

Using a little travel brush and a container of ink, the second young master wrote a small message and tied it to the bird's leg. But he did not release it.

He said, "The moment we send this, we'll lose our value to you. What's to stop you from attacking us in a fight to the death? We decide when to send it."

"Think. Sending it once won't be the end of it. Consider the size of Southern Zhili and Shandong. That bird will have to fly back and forth constantly."

"... You're right."

He quietly admitted his mistake. He seemed wary of Jung Yeonshin's martial prowess. Even with internal injuries, he apparently believed, Jung Yeonshin could take them down with him. In the martial world, that was called mutual destruction.

'This one's grown quite cautious.'

Jung Yeonshin watched the bird fly away, then lowered his head.

Hwangbo Myeongrin had recovered her senses and was glaring murderously at him. The second young master, by contrast, could not lift his head.

They could never get along. Even so, they had to travel together.

"Whoever brought the blood fiends here, we need to join forces. It seems they've come to kill the young disciples of the Dragon-Phoenix Summit too."

It was the Supreme Flame Dragon. He looked from one side to the other, then popped a poppy into his mouth. Chewing steadily on the flower bud, he soon fixed his gaze on Jung Yeonshin.

* * *

Twenty days passed. They shook off the Blood Flame Cult's pursuit time and again.

The Heaven-and-Earth Net had begun closing in from the south. They could not return to Huizhou. It would be quicker to receive the protection of the Hwangbo clan coming down from Jinan.

The entire party looked like beggars. They had been driven onto mountain trails far from the highways throughout their flight.

They stood on a plain at the end of a long mountain range. They were nearing Shandong now.

'Now it's a race.'

Jung Yeonshin was thoroughly sick of hunting birds for food. Even when they slept, one of the three Radiant Demon Squad members always had to stay awake. They could not fully trust the Hwangbo siblings or the other young disciples.

Enough time had passed. The mission was a success. The Hwangbo clan and the Desolate Fortress would be rushing toward them from opposite directions.

It was a contest between the martial nobles who ruled Jinan in Shandong and the Desolate Fortress, whose jurisdiction spanned the Central Plains. With Shandong as the battlefield, either side might reasonably arrive first—if this had been an unexpected mission.

'They'll arrive at the same time.'

The Blood Flame Cult was reportedly difficult to infiltrate because of its sorcery. The Hwangbo clan was different. They would have rushed out, none the wiser. Once they crossed into northern Southern Zhili, they could never escape the Desolate Fortress's eyes.

The fortress had been watching them for a long time. This operation had been years in the making. There was a strong chance that the Radiant Demon Squad and other martial units were already following behind, concealed from view.

"They said the clan's guard corps is coming. It's over now."

Hwangbo Myeongrin had fully regained her confidence, enough to declare openly that once the Hwangbo clan's guards arrived, the Blood Flame Cult's pursuers would be of no consequence. She directed the party, relegating the Supreme Flame Dragon and the second young master to the sidelines.

"There they are," Heon Wonchang murmured.

As soon as they descended the mountain, he seemed to spot warriors racing toward them. They wore vermilion martial robes. There were just over thirty, yet the waves of qi reaching them were immensely powerful. They even carried a sense of military discipline.

"Rin!"

A burly middle-aged man raced at their head. His lightness skill was astonishing. With his energy held tightly in check, his sprint closed the distance in an instant.

Jung Yeonshin briefly compared the man to himself at full health. The years of accumulated training set them apart. He was not confident of an easy victory.

"Uncle Supreme Sword!"

The free-spirited ways of Murim evidently extended to noble clans as well. Hwangbo Myeongrin threw herself into the middle-aged man's arms. He laughed heartily and stroked her head with hands of remarkable thickness.

"Thank goodness. Thank goodness you're safe. You've endured so much. You truly have."

From beside him, Heon Wonchang sent Jung Yeonshin a sound transmission. Supreme Sword Hwangbo Jun: the younger brother of the current Hwangbo clan head. He added that the man was one of the foremost swordsmen in Jinan, Shandong Province.

"But the young clan head..."

The Supreme Sword turned his eyes toward the Supreme Flame Dragon, who was sitting carelessly on a rock.

"A bastard son, dressed in the ceremonial robes of an heir. You should be grateful for the honor. Yet you put the purebloods of the direct line through all this suffering?"

"I'm only an heir with about five years left anyway. What does it matter how I live?"

"You brat!"

"You won't even show me the proper respect, yet you have the gall to call me the heir."

The Supreme Flame Dragon snorted. After silently glaring at him for a while, the Supreme Sword turned away.

'That family isn't normal either.'

Jung Yeonshin's gaze met the Supreme Sword's large, fierce eyes.

So the Supreme Flame Dragon was an illegitimate child. Had they valued the life of their short-lived kinsman, they would have let him join the Desolate Fortress, even if it meant severing his ties with the clan.

He had already guessed the truth. They seemed to be using him as fuel to glorify the clan and furnish it with heartwarming tales.

"An unmarked blue overrobe, martial clothes, a young face. So you're the one. There was mention of you in the little space that message afforded."

The Supreme Sword smiled at Jung Yeonshin. The killing intent in that smile bore down on him with imperious authority.

"Gu Gwa of the Truth-Seeking Sect. Cut off one of your arms yourself and offer it to me. I will forgive your insolence."

"He should lose his head. The humiliation was unbearable."

Hwangbo Myeongrin interjected. The Supreme Sword's smile turned kindly. He even nodded.

"Do as you wish."

Now it was plain. Were all martial noble clans like this? He ought to regard them solely as regional aristocrats, not orthodox martial artists.

"I'm granting you the glory of Shaolin's Huike. I'll let you live until we've stopped the bleeding and made you spit out your true identity. Or shall we start fighting right away?"

Hwangbo Myeongrin spoke with a polished smile. She meant Master Huike, who was said to have cut off his own arm before Bodhidharma while seeking his teaching. It was outright mockery.

The other warriors blocked the Supreme Flame Dragon when he tried to intervene. Hwangbo Myeongrin pressed him.

"Shall we begin? Is that all the spirit you have?"

Jung Yeonshin silently ran his hand over Northern Radiance. Its feel was still a little unfamiliar.

Sword song, mental cultivation method, and Thunderclap Bombs. Those subjects had occupied Jung Yeonshin's mind for twenty days.

If explosive weapons were impossible to resist, the many sects could never have risen to power in the first place. He could not imagine the Desolate Fortress Master falling victim to a Thunderclap Bomb, nor Ma Jin, nor even Chung Myung.

'I think I could deflect one with a soft sword form. As I am now.'

As it happened, his opponent practiced a hard sword style. He had known as soon as he sensed the man's presence.

Standing behind the Supreme Sword, Hwangbo Myeongrin jeered.

"That tongue of yours was always so nimble, yet now you say nothing. Our house is the foremost clan in Shandong. The Hwangbo clan is graciously asking whether it may begin punishing you."

"Enough. He's vermin from a sect no one has heard of. Don't waste your energy on a rootless wretch."

The Supreme Sword strode toward him, completely disregarding their combat distance. Just how little did he think of him?

The second young master wore a broad, gleeful grin. The young disciples and Hwangbo warriors watching from behind showed no expression at all.

"Gu Gwa of the Truth-Seeking Sect. We're starting now. Are you ready for the clan's interrogation?"

Hwangbo Myeongrin was no different, though she seemed positively delighted. She even gave him a playful smile.

Jung Yeonshin did not answer. He was just about to employ the sword form he had newly comprehended when the Supreme Sword stopped dead.

WHOOOOSH! BOOM!

Someone landed behind Jung Yeonshin. An immense tremor reverberated through the ground. They seemed to have leaped from the hill behind him. The shaking dwarfed anything a Thunderclap Bomb had caused.

He knew without looking back. That brutally swelling wave of qi was all too familiar.

"Captain!"

Shin Sobin cried out. It was Jung Yeonshin's maternal uncle. Ma Jin, captain of the Radiant Demon Squad, had arrived.

BOOM! BOOM!

Two waves of qi of similar magnitude plunged down like meteors, seemingly on either side of Ma Jin. Thick clouds of dust billowed forward.

One presence resembled the lonely azure heavens; the other felt ominous yet solemn. These, too, were familiar.

The captains of the Azure Heaven Squad and the Annihilation Squad. The former had given Jung Yeonshin a spirit pill when he first joined, and the latter had presided over his blue-robe Promotion Exam.

There were others, too. People with whom he had shared meals and sleeping quarters ever since joining.

WHOOOOSH!

The backwash from the Radiant Demon Squad's blue-robed masters' lightness skills swept in every direction. Perhaps twenty of them. He could sense them coming to a halt behind the captains with their superb Mobility Arts.

That was not the end.

More groups of similar size landed and immediately spread out to either side. Their qi waves matched those of the Radiant Demon Squad. They would be the Desolate Fortress's Azure Heaven Squad and Annihilation Squad.

The seventeen squads of the Divine Sword Squad upheld the welfare of the people beneath heaven. It was said that when two or more assembled, they were invincible.

"Lightning Genius!"

WHOOSH!

With Chung Myung's shout, a long object hurtled toward the back of his head. Jung Yeonshin twisted slightly and caught it at once. Even the cool feel against his palm was distinctive.

It was his Desolate Sword. He immediately tucked it into his belt beside Northern Radiance.

Another object followed. The white pill caught in Jung Yeonshin's hand gave off a fragrant scent. Chung Myung seemed to have seen through his internal injuries. It was Shaolin's Pill of Luminous Rectitude.

That settled it. Lightning Genius had been resupplied.

THUD!

The Desolate Fortress's Divine Sword Squad.

Jung Yeonshin trembled at the spectacle of qi waves rising like wildfire. Was there any greater force beneath heaven?

In this moment, he almost felt an intangible might supporting his right hand as he drew his sword.

At the same time, Heon Wonchang approached with steps so light he might have taken flight. With one hand, he seized the cloth covering the side of Jung Yeonshin's shoulder and ripped it away.

RIIIP!

The character for Desolation was revealed: a golden emblem signifying the Desolate Fortress Master's direct disciple.

Someone gasped.

"Supreme Sword Hwangbo Jun."

Jung Yeonshin spoke calmly. As he slowly rolled the Pill of Luminous Rectitude between the fingers of his left hand, a silence had settled over the plain as though time itself had frozen.

"You may begin."

He held his sword lowered as he spoke.