Seated beside Namgoong Hwashin at the tea table, Jung Yeonshin quietly studied the man across from him. He was a handsome young man who looked just shy of thirty, with gently downturned eyes. His lightly pressed lips seemed to speak of firm resolve.

He was the young master of the Namgoong clan.

'He said he was Young Master White Qilin's elder brother.'

The Blue Qilin, Namgoong Sejin. He had reportedly been the foremost rising talent in Southern Zhili. That was in the past. These days, the martial world's gossips no longer discussed him within the bounds of the rising generation.

His build looked as solid as his features were handsome. His long robe of fine blue silk seemed part of his body. It was an even deeper shade than the Desolate Fortress's blue uniform.

TAP.

A long-haired swordswoman of the Namgoong clan served the tea herself. Despite her stern martial presence, her movements were careful. She seemed untroubled by playing the maid. Indeed, she appeared to have volunteered.

“Thank you, Yeon.”

“...”

She answered the young clan head with a small smile and stepped backward. Soon she took up a position by the door of the inn's annex, as though standing guard. Namgoong warriors already guarded the place without a gap. They looked as though they were protecting the most exalted person under heaven.

'They say they're local magnates who live like royalty in Southern Zhili.'

Jung Yeonshin immediately felt there was truth to the rumors.

“I'm glad you look well.”

The young clan head was gazing warmly at Namgoong Hwashin.

“I hear the Desolate Fortress is an organization with exceedingly strict laws. I've been worried about you, but the air in Xiangyang, Huguang Province, seems to agree with you. You've grown very strong.”

“... It is thanks to you, Brother.”

“I suppose I did contribute a little.”

A playful smile touched the young clan head's lips.

“You have no idea how fiercely the elders scolded me. I was severely punished for helping you leave home. They made me spend a month in seclusion.”

“Ah...”

“I was so worried about you that I made little progress. The king-style sword arts remain a difficult study. Who knows when I'll reach Great Completion?”

“I am sorry.”

Namgoong Hwashin bowed his head. His manner was different from when he dealt with Namgoong Mi. Beside him, Jung Yeonshin thought that, on the face of it, this was understandable.

The young clan head spoke.

“I understand why you volunteered for the duels. Since you couldn't stop the Desolate Fortress from acting, you must have wished to bring matters to a close yourself. I'm sorry, and my heart aches for you.”

“Brother...”

“It is merely our house reaping what it has sown.”

After murmuring those words as though reciting them, the young clan head turned his head slightly.

“And you are...”

His direct gaze fell on Yeonshin. It was intense. Jung Yeonshin did not look away, but met it steadily.

“The Desolate Fortress's Lightning Genius. We've met before. The sound technique you displayed in Azure Wild Valley was... most impressive.”

“Allow me to explain what happened to Namgoong Mi.”

At the boy's composed words, the young clan head shook his head. Yeonshin held his teacup.

“The unorthodox master who appeared out of nowhere? Never mind that. Though she is my sister, little Mi has accumulated a great deal of bad karma.”

“Hmm...?”

“As our house's young clan head, I looked into the matter of the Profound Truth Sect in Wuchang. She handled it in her own fashion. As her elder brother, I can only deplore my failure to guide her properly. She has been earning grudges for far more than a day or two. Something like this could have happened at any time.”

“Brother!”

Namgoong Mi's cry rang out from the bedchamber, her voice piercingly sharp.

The young clan head closed his eyes once and opened them again, ignoring his sister. Perhaps it was the powerful internal energy he possessed as the clan's heir. Or perhaps it was his temperament. The clear, colorless light burning in both eyes was unmistakable.

After silently regarding Jung Yeonshin, he spoke.

“Like our elders, I too am a narrow-minded, petty man. Even after seeing you today, I've been hesitating until this very moment. But this is indeed the right thing to do.”

“What do you mean?”

“I should have begged your forgiveness first.”

With that, the young clan head rose smoothly and stepped to one side of the tea table. Slowly, his body inclined forward. He bent at the waist, extending his hands. He showed no sign of stopping as his upper body descended toward the floor. Sharp intakes of breath sounded from all around.

And so the Namgoong clan's young clan head prostrated himself before a sixteen-year-old boy from a hostile faction.

“There is an expression, ‘a hundred bows in apology.’ This apology is only right. It may not be my place to speak to you in Namgoong's name, but this...”

His voice came from the lowest possible position. Still prostrate, the young clan head continued.

“Is my profound gratitude for your aid to Namgoong in Azure Wild Valley; the apology of the young head of the Namgoong clan, which repaid your kindness with betrayal; and the self-consolation of a petty man who wishes to face you in our duel with even a little less shame.”

“...”

The silence around them was heavy. A martial artist who held dominion over an entire province of the Central Plains was said to be no less than the king of a small nation. That made the man destined to rule Southern Zhili's martial world the equivalent of a crown prince. Such were his martial strength and authority.

Jung Yeonshin looked down with a composed expression. The young clan head showed no sign of lifting his head anytime soon. His resolve seemed firm.

'This man's swordsmanship will be fearsome.'

The boy betrayed no change of expression, but inwardly he was taken aback. Here was a chivalrous man who clearly distinguished debts from grudges. He had not expected to find in a noble clan the same spirit of chivalry he had sensed in the seekers of the Nine Great Sects.

Still less had he expected his opponent in a duel to the death to be such a man.

“I dare not ask forgiveness. I know this gesture cannot absolve Namgoong's sins. Our duel is already decided, so please simply accept it.”

The young clan head did not raise his head for a long time. Namgoong Hwashin remained silent, his expression bitter. As the Namgoong guards looked on with varying expressions, Jung Yeonshin took a sip of tea and spoke.

“You are right. Our duel to the death is settled. One of us must now die, so there is no point debating its meaning at this stage.”

“...”

“I will consider your apology accepted. You should rise and tell us your business.”

“Thank you, truly.”

The young clan head rose, slowly lifting his head. His face bore a sheepish smile.

'Even his mind has been honed.'

Jung Yeonshin considered the man before him. His inner self was formidable. It was chilling, yet it also stirred his curiosity. What sort of sword path would he wield?

* * *

“I heard you went through a couple of serious incidents on the way here. I came to escort my sister, Hwashin, and you. Naturally, I'll send my attendants away. How could you trust us, Lightning Genius?”

The young clan head did as he said. He dismissed every Namgoong warrior who had come with him.

“Young clan head, we believe you should uphold the dignity of your position.”

“Wandering the martial world alone is something for unaffiliated warriors.”

Some did not wish to leave. That was only natural. The Namgoong clan of Huizhou was counted among the contenders for the greatest orthodox house under heaven. Its young clan head was not free to roam the martial world as he pleased.

“Do not disgrace me further. I'm ashamed to face the Desolate Fortress's masters. Abandon any thought of following from a distance as well. By my authority as young clan head, I will punish such insubordination.”

He sent them away with that calm command. His manner was utterly resolute. Namgoong Mi tried to leave with the subordinates, but he shook his head and stopped her.

“The spiritual power of human-shaped snow ginseng is wondrous. I know your body has recovered. This may be our last journey through the martial world. We siblings have never enjoyed a quiet tour of the world together, have we?”

“What do you mean, last...!”

“Come along. Huizhou is close. It won't take more than a few days.”

And so four of them remained.

Jung Yeonshin's party left Huangzhou, where they had unintentionally spent five whole days. An unexpected traveling companion had joined them.

In silence, they entered a forest path. Eight footprints marked the earth, which was dappled here and there with gold. Perhaps it should have been ten, since the Seventh Apostle was following with her sights on Jung Yeonshin.

Namgoong Hwashin and Namgoong Mi. Jung Yeonshin and the young clan head. This was hardly a group that could stroll along in harmony. One of each pair had to die.

Only the young clan head's weighty jokes occasionally stirred the dusty air.

“It's a good thing.”

The young clan head abruptly spoke. His smile as he looked from Jung Yeonshin to Namgoong Hwashin had a peculiar charm.

“Lightning Genius and White Qilin. The names of two masters have begun to spread beyond Huguang. If you both survive, treasure your friendship. Worthy rivals forge one another into divine swords. The Hwangbo clan's Supreme Flame Dragon was such a rival to me. I hear he's imprisoned in the Desolate Fortress's dungeons?”

“I don't know how he's still alive.”

Jung Yeonshin answered. He remembered a man with poppy in his mouth and a deranged expression. It was difficult to picture him in the young clan head's company.

“He seemed free-spirited at first glance, but he was a foolish friend. He wanted to leave his clan, yet never went beyond wishing it. We had much in common. It seems he's fulfilled his dream in a different way... You truly cannot see even an inch ahead in the martial world.”

The young clan head murmured with a bitter smile. Just then, Jung Yeonshin and the others all turned at once.

“Is the Desolate Fortress's Lightning Genius there?!”

A voice imbued with internal energy boomed out. It was closer to an announcement than a question.

A group charged up from behind at terrifying speed. Every one of them wore a weapon. There seemed to be about twenty, and the waves of qi surging from them together were far from ordinary. The still forest air began to churn in a fierce wind.

“You blue-robed brat of the Desolate Fortress! Submit to the punishment of the Martial Alliance's eldest young master!”

One man stood out even among them. Seemingly their leader, he shot forward at astonishing speed. His sword was already drawn.

SWISH!

Without asking who was right or wrong, he unleashed a sword strike.

'The Martial Alliance.'

Jung Yeonshin immediately recalled the journey on which he had created the Demon-Slaying Gentle Flowing Strike. Together with Shaolin's Master Wonjong, he had boarded a boat carrying rising talents of the Thirteen Skies. A woman called Sword Flower had threatened an innocent woman, so he had beheaded her.

Afterward, Ma Jin had warned him to be wary of the ensuing debts and grudges, for she had a betrothed.

The Tyrant Sword Tribe, the Blood Flame Cult, and the Martial Alliance. These were the unorthodox powers of the Thirteen Skies that had crossed paths with Jung Yeonshin and come to bear him grudges.

The Desolate Fortress had sent a duel challenge to the Namgoong clan. The entire martial world had been shaken. The roster, too, would be well known by now. Their route toward Southern Zhili was obvious, and they had lingered in Huangzhou for five days.

'It's no surprise that pursuers have caught up.'

He had been prepared for this. Jung Yeonshin seized the Desolate Sword's hilt and met the attack.

CLANG!

He drew and clashed blades in the same instant. The force of his opponent's blow reverberated all the way to the back of his hand. It was tremendous sword force, well beyond the ordinary.

Jung Yeonshin murmured, “The eldest young master?”

“I am a hundred-man commander of the Alliance! The eldest young master sent me to punish you!”

The middle-aged man bellowed as though unleashing a lion's roar.

So not you, then, Jung Yeonshin muttered inwardly. The fact that a commander of a hundred had brought only twenty was a secondary matter. He was short on time, yet his enemies kept multiplying. A worry arose. Would he die out here before he could eat the fruit?

It happened then. An overwhelming presence blossomed ahead, where the man's subordinates were rushing toward them. This was no confined space, yet an enormous pressure rose from the Namgoong clan's young head and spread over a vast area.

It was as though all the air there were being pushed outward at once. At the same time, the Martial Alliance warriors' movements slowed precipitously.

'No.'

They weren't moving. Even calling them slow was insufficient. The bodies of twenty men seemed almost frozen. It was a truly unreal sight. These were warriors who had cultivated the internal qi arts of the Thirteen Skies.

It was a miracle. His martial prowess defied common sense.

“The king-style... sword arts...”

Namgoong Hwashin, who had drawn at the same time as Jung Yeonshin, let out a low murmur. While the boy faced the Martial Alliance's hundred-man commander, the young clan head had stepped before his subordinates.

A divine technique had revealed itself before Jung Yeonshin's eyes: the Namgoong clan's special martial art, said to be without equal under heaven.

“Blue Qilin! Why are you stopping us?! The Desolate Fortress is the common enemy of the martial world! Can't you kill these bastards first and settle your differences afterward?!”

The hundred-man commander shouted while locked in a contest of strength with Jung Yeonshin, their swords pressed together. The young clan head did not answer. Maintaining the divine technique called the king-style sword arts, he looked at the boy and spoke.

“Word that you beheaded the Tyrant Sword Tribe's Vicious Rakshasa Swordsman only recently reached Southern Zhili. Did you know that beggars of the Beggars' Sect were watching at the time? They call themselves freeloaders, but their discernment rivals that of most masters. I was able to buy some quality information.”

Then he turned again. Martial Alliance warriors with weapons drawn filled his surroundings.

“I hear you excel at deciphering forms and breaking them. You unravel them well, and destroy them well. Thus, I have no intention of showing you my sword moves beforehand.”

“Haaaah!”

The warriors trapped within the domain of the king-style sword arts shouted with exertion. Now none of them could so much as twitch. Amid them, the young clan head alone stood lofty and unbound.

Drawing his dazzling treasured sword, he walked down the forest path. He began cutting the immobilized enemies' throats one by one. Majesty imbued his leisurely steps. Not one could parry his blows, though they were no special forms. More accurately, they could not even resist.

One died with every breath. Their lives ended on despairing exhalations.

There was a saying: “Exterminate the demons.” The notion that orthodox warriors would therefore show mercy was absurd. With his sword drawn, the young clan head's hand was resolute. All orthodox warriors were like that when confronting the evil and unorthodox paths.

At last, when every subordinate the hundred-man commander had brought was dead, the young clan head quietly asked,

“What do you think of this? Lightning Genius, can you break it?”

Jung Yeonshin did not answer. In an instant, he reversed his grip on the Desolate Sword and hurled it, driving it forward with a full burst of internal energy.

He rushed straight into the hundred-man commander's guard as the man deflected the Desolate Sword. Gripping the stunned man's sword along with him, he placed his left hand against his abdomen.

He had already activated the Demonic Asura Blood Art and the Demon-Slaying Gentle Flowing Strike simultaneously. The power of the sorcerous formation arising from his palm bound the mutually opposing martial arts into one.

WHOOOOSH!

Jung Yeonshin concealed nothing. He fully revealed his unfinished palm technique. His Martial Alliance opponent was plainly inferior. He unleashed it without concern for execution time or precision.

BOOM!

The vibration was tremendous. For an instant, even the trees in every direction shook. A flock of birds burst upward with a flutter of wings.

“...”

The hundred-man commander's corpse had flown far away, its shape barely recognizable.

Jung Yeonshin shook his opponent's blood from his hand and turned his head. Namgoong Hwashin's faintly furrowed brow and Namgoong Mi's appalled face passed through his field of vision. He met the young clan head's widened eyes.

“I have shown you mine,” the boy said.

He had launched a psychological attack. The duel had already begun.