His unconscious opponent was dragged away. The trouble came when it was time for his second and final match.

'The world is full of monsters.'

Jung Yeonshin felt as though he had encountered a warrior who would one day become an absolute master like the Tyrant Sword Tribe Lord.

A man dressed entirely in pure white walked steadily toward him from the opposite side. His slender jaw had lines as fine as the blade of a treasured sword, while his sharply focused, jet-black eyes reflected his resolve and marked him as a swordsman. Skin as flawless as his snow-white clothing, together with a high, straight nose, lent him a noble air.

He was an extraordinarily handsome young man. Perhaps twenty years old?

'The White Qilin, Namgoong Hwashin.'

He knew without asking. There could hardly be another man like that here.

Even the Desolate Fortress masters seated in a wide circle showed interest.

"I wonder who will take him. The captains will be fighting over him."

"Doesn't he seem stronger than us? A Namgoong, all right."

"Will we get to witness the Boundless Heaven Technique today?"

They spoke as though his acceptance were a foregone conclusion. Some of the candidates waiting in the garden opposite even looked at Jung Yeonshin with pity.

'He looks about five years older than me. I don't think he's a mountain I can never climb.'

He could feel the waves of qi emanating from Namgoong Hwashin. The flow of his core energy was extraordinarily refined. It seemed he had completed the greater circulation and spread his internal energy into even the finest meridians throughout his body years ago—and had taken a spiritual elixir besides. Truly formidable internal power breathed within him.

The Desolate Fortress masters' admiration continued unabated.

"It is no easy thing for a rumor to cross several provinces."

"He certainly lives up to his reputation."

Jung Yeonshin agreed.

'My body is better. In everything else, I'm not there yet.'

Namgoong Hwashin stopped five paces away. His courteous martial salute carried the almost unapproachable dignity of a great house.

"I am Namgoong Hwashin of the Namgoong clan. I have mainly studied our inherited arts, the Boundless Heaven Technique and Infinite Steps. I look forward to our match."

"I trained in the Movement Art at the Jeong Clan Estate in Henan."

Jung Yeonshin clasped his hands in a respectful greeting. Namgoong Hwashin returned it with a slight bow, then drew his sword.

With a clear ring, the sword's radiance unfurled into the crisp morning air. It was dazzling.

A swordsman's level could be judged by how he drew and sheathed his weapon. Namgoong Hwashin's silver draw, cutting diagonally through the air, was beautiful.

Jung Yeonshin did not draw his sword. The key to the sword move he had been cultivating lately was surprise: a single strike launched at a moment the opponent could not anticipate. If it worked, he could catch even this dragon among the rising generation off guard.

Standing still, he circulated the core energy within his body.

"Begin."

The examiner, the only Desolate Fortress warrior standing as he assessed the matches, gave the order.

At that very instant—

CLANG!

Jung Yeonshin's arm was already extended to the side. His sword snapped in two, and a piece flew away. Still holding the halved blade, he slowly lowered his arm.

Murmurs spread like wildfire through both gardens.

"What happened...?"

"What? What was that?"

"Did the boy lose?"

"The White Qilin. What terrifyingly swift swordsmanship!"

While the hopeful entrants reacted with confusion or their own confident conclusions, the Desolate Fortress masters remained utterly silent.

"..."

These were the same people whose relaxed bearing had seemed out of place for warriors of the foremost power in the martial world. Now a solemn intensity enveloped them. Without a word, every master kept their eyes fixed on Jung Yeonshin. On Jung Yeonshin alone.

The White Qilin, Namgoong Hwashin, lowered his sword.

"I have lost."

At his concession, the Desolate Fortress warriors began speaking one by one, their expressions suggesting that this was only natural.

"Jung Yeonshin, was it? Truly terrifying swift swordsmanship."

"I heard Namgoong Hwashin had just turned twenty."

"The boy looks at least five years younger."

"Henan had a hidden dragon. His age is even more frightening."

"He doesn't seem to have learned how to infuse his sword with core energy. Shall I teach him?"

Everyone turned to the warrior who had spoken last.

"Annihilation Squad. Don't act rashly. Who wouldn't want a boy like that?"

"Don't order me around. He would be better off joining Annihilation than rotting away in your Radiant Demon Squad."

"Enough," said the examiner.

Jung Yeonshin was surprised to see the gathering fall quiet. He had assumed the person saddled with the tedious work would be the lowest-ranking among them, but that was not the case.

Did the higher ranks take on the work that carried responsibility? He felt he was beginning to understand the Desolate Fortress.

"Namgoong Hwashin, prepare for your next match. And you. Jung Yeonshin of Xinye, was it?"

"Yes."

"There is another garden to the north, over there. Wait there."

"Understood."

Jung Yeonshin turned and offered Namgoong Hwashin a martial salute.

"I hope you will exchange moves with me again."

"... That was what I wanted to say. Until next time."

Namgoong Hwashin smiled. His expression was quite peculiar: rather than any dark emotion, only interest and delight seemed to linger around his lips.

'What a contrast to those so-called brothers of mine.'

His character was in a different class from that of the Jeong siblings.

The moment the match began, Jung Yeonshin had struck Namgoong Hwashin's sword with his Swift Sword Formula pushed to its utmost limit. He had realized he had no chance in a prolonged fight.

But Namgoong Hwashin had already infused his blade with core energy, apparently intending to give his all even against a boy. That was how Jung Yeonshin's sword had broken.

Recklessly unleashing his swift sword could be called his own blunder, yet Namgoong Hwashin had conceded defeat instead. He seemed to consider himself beaten because his attack had come so much later.

'Life in the Desolate Fortress should be far better than life at the Jeong Clan Estate.'

Gathering up the broken blade, Jung Yeonshin headed north with that thought.

* * *

In the garden where those who had passed the desolate fortress trial gathered, the people already there greeted him with astonished looks.

Jung Yeonshin paid them no mind and recalled his single strike: the balance of weight between his feet, the layering of core energy through the Classic of Initiating Transcendence, and the explosive release of his contracted muscles. For now, he could see no way to take it further.

The problem was the sword, after all.

'Did he say he was with the Radiant Demon Squad? That warrior was right.'

During the massacre at the Jeong Clan Estate, he had not clashed blades directly. The wandering warriors he had faced on the road from Xinye to Xiangyang had not been strong enough for core energy to be a concern.

The Desolate Fortress was different. He had now stepped into the heart of the martial world.

'The Fruit of the World Tree.'

He had to eat it. He could not simply die young like this.

'I haven't learned how to infuse a sword with core energy?'

Of course he hadn't. The Jeong Clan Estate had been nothing more than a third-rate martial organization playing at being a great martial clan in Xinye County. He had never met anyone in the family who disliked boasting. If any of them had possessed such a skill, there was no way he would not have known.

'All that matters is that I know now.'

Merely hearing that such a thing existed was enough. The instant he knew, he understood how.

Core energy flowed from the hand gripping the hilt into his broken sword. And that was not the end. At the same time, he realized his internal energy could roam freely through the iron of the blade. Following this new sensation, his core energy enveloped it.

Simply filling the sword with energy? No. He realized he could go further and become one with it through his core energy.

His consciousness, now absorbed in a single blade, advanced naturally. The sword was calling to him—to a higher dimension of sensation.

HUMMM.

The sword vibrated, sounding as though it were singing of its own accord.

"Sword resonance!"

The warriors in the garden sprang to their feet. Jung Yeonshin's eyes were closed. Unconcerned by the commotion around him, he savored the feel of the sword singing in his grasp.

'So this is Body-Sword Unification. It really feels like it's become part of my body.'

Swordsmanship performed in this state would be something new again. What power would the Swift Sword Formula display with this newfound precision?

Ever since passing the desolate fortress trial, he had done nothing but gain. The Fruit of the World Tree was still far out of reach, but his present achievement left him thoroughly satisfied.

'The Desolate Fortress. What a wonderful place.'

When he opened his eyes, he saw Namgoong Hwashin smiling gently. His gaze fell on the hand resting on the man's sword hilt. It seemed he had stood nearby to ensure no one interfered with his enlightenment. He had served as his Dharma protector.

"Congratulations on your achievement."

He dipped his head slightly to Jung Yeonshin. Could a person truly be this upright?

"I didn't realize you were standing guard for me. Thank you. And..."

"...?"

"Congratulations on passing the desolate fortress trial as well, Young Master Namgoong."

For the first time, Namgoong Hwashin looked momentarily blank. Then he laughed heartily.

Some watched enviously as Jung Yeonshin struck up a friendship with the White Qilin, but his gaze had already returned to his sword.

* * *

After waiting half a double-hour—one hour—he finally saw Heon Wonchang as well. The man had said he had taken the trial time and again, and now he too had passed.

The sight of him tapping the dragon embroidered on the hero's headband around his forehead was rather comical.

"I've already chosen my epithet. What do you think of Desolate Fortress Sacred Warrior?"

"A wondrous chivalrous warrior of the Desolate Fortress? Do people choose their own epithets?"

"Why not? Murim is a world of shameless men who introduce themselves by their own grand titles. If I introduce myself as the Desolate Fortress Sacred Warrior, that will become my epithet."

"Then wouldn't every swordsman in the world already be a Divine Sword or a Sword Star?"

Heon Wonchang pretended not to hear. Jung Yeonshin chuckled.

'An epithet.'

A name bestowed by people of the martial world when someone demonstrated extraordinary martial prowess or became involved in an event that drew attention. Unless its bearer was given to evil deeds, an epithet was usually both a warrior's identity and a great honor.

Such was the case with Cliff Sword, Neutral Spirit Fist, and the White Qilin.

"It seems some people already have another name for you, Young Master Jung."

It was Namgoong Hwashin.

"Me? All I've done is take the trial."

"Lightning Genius. If the Desolate Fortress warriors themselves are calling you that, it is already a true martial-world epithet."

"A talent that flashes like light? Aren't they merely amused that a young boy's sword is a little fast?"

Namgoong Hwashin smiled, revealing white teeth.

"A little fast? If you put it that way, what does that make me, who missed the timing entirely? Besides, a warrior's potential is quite often expressed through an epithet. Congratulations."

"... Thank you."

Jung Yeonshin answered with a slightly awkward expression.

Lightning Genius Jung Yeonshin. It was a name he could never have imagined while holding a horse stance back at the Jeong Clan Estate.

Beside him, the Desolate Fortress Sacred Warrior looked on enviously.

"Everyone, gather!"

It was the examiner from the training ground.

"Pass just one more hurdle, and you will be warriors of the Desolate Fortress. To those who will pass, I say this in advance: in this fortress that stands proudly alone in the martial world, you will learn and train, carry out missions, and share your meals and quarters. Conduct yourselves with proper dignity, and become warriors worthy of your station."

The twenty candidates who had taken the desolate fortress trial were quiet. Jung Yeonshin could guess why.

Passing the second test was cause for celebration, but the final hurdle was said to be an interview with the Desolate Fortress Master—a living part of the Great Ming Empire's history, an unrivaled master sometimes named the greatest martial artist under heaven.

Even for Jung Yeonshin, a private audience with such a mythical figure was no small matter.

No one spoke as the examiner led them past the splendid palace buildings.

"..."

The silence persisted even after they entered the overwhelmingly vast main keep at the very center of the sprawling Desolate Fortress. One by one, they were called upstairs, then returned looking dazed.

For something called an interview, each turn was remarkably brief. It almost seemed they were merely showing their faces and coming back down.

At last, Jung Yeonshin's turn came, and he ascended. The staircase seemed to spiral upward without end.

'They said to go all the way to the top.'

After what felt like well over a hundred steps, he reached the summit. A huge, antique door stood there. As he approached, it opened on its own.

The spacious study was truly strange. Everywhere he looked, there were trees, branches, and greenery. Huge trunks twisted and rose naturally to form what appeared to be a desk, a tea table, and a bed.

An immense tree, wholly alive. Clear sunlight streamed through a broad opening in the wall.

"My name is Jung Yeonshin."

He spoke without faltering.

A figure was there, even her martial robes a pale green that looked as though it had been dyed with leaves. Her face partly concealed by leafy twigs, she sat leaning against a tree. Slowly, she raised her head.

Their eyes met. Something beyond even a shudder surged to the crown of his head.

It was an emotion he could not understand. Was it awe and wonder that someone like this existed in the world?

'The Desolate Fortress Master. The greatest under heaven.'

Her ears, pointed like the tip of a divine sword, and her beauty, seldom equaled in the mortal world, were not what mattered.

It was her deep-green eyes that overwhelmed him. Meeting them now, he felt as though his very soul were being drawn inside. Eyes in which the principles governing all things under heaven seemed to swirl.

He had the powerful sense that even the Tyrant Sword Tribe Lord—the absolute being in his memory—could not escape those eyes.

She existed on such a different plane that it would have been stranger for an interview to take long.

SWISH...

A breath of wind lifted her long green hair slightly, then brushed Jung Yeonshin's cheek.

The Desolate Fortress Master tilted her head to one side.

"You... are that child's blood."

She spoke.