Soon a hearty smile spread across the young clan head's face. His eyes curved gently as he looked at Jung Yeonshin.

"How bold of you. You win this round."

"You showed me the force of your king-style sword arts. I gained something from it as well."

Jung Yeonshin answered calmly. He meant that this was no matter of who had won or lost their contest of wills.

The king-style sword arts were a kind of divine technique unlike any he had encountered. Had he first faced them during their duel, he would have started at a disadvantage.

"You gained something? I am curious to see how you work it out."

The young clan head's smile deepened.

Jung Yeonshin read a competitive spirit in his expression. It was the look of someone who walked the martial path, just like the practitioners of the Nine Great Sects. He thought Sejin was a man of many faces.

"That aside, the Martial Alliance..."

Namgoong Hwashin approached Jung Yeonshin and spoke.

"I hear that despite its name, its organization is no different from the military's. Under the protection of a vassal prince in Henan Province, it has become something close to a private army. It has a great many members."

"Close to the military..."

Hwashin nodded at Jung Yeonshin's murmur.

"Being a hundred-man commander does not necessarily mean his martial prowess stands above the rest. There must be many far stronger warriors in the Martial Alliance. We should regard those lying here as scouts. It seems greater experts will be coming after you, Young Master Jung..."

He trailed off. Concern clouded his jade-handsome face. It was plain that he feared not for his own safety, but for Jung Yeonshin's.

"I know a little about the Martial Alliance's eldest young master."

The young clan head approached with his sword lowered. Blood still dripped from the treasured blade he had yet to sheathe.

"You might call him a general with a talent for schemes. He is a tiresome man to have as an enemy."

"It sounds as though his level of martial prowess is beside the point."

"You understand at once. He knows how to use overwhelming numbers. He has clashed with our house several times as well. Be on your guard. If something feels wrong about a village where you stop for the night, turn around and leave immediately. If you can, that is."

"... I will keep that in mind."

Jung Yeonshin gave a brief reply and fell silent. The young clan head's words and conduct struck him as peculiar.

This was an enemy he would have to fight to the death, yet Sejin advised him in a gentle tone, as though speaking to a younger brother.

They seemed like an ordinary senior and junior of the martial world. The very ease with which he spoke to Jung Yeonshin made it stranger still.

'Blue Qilin Namgoong Sejin... What a strange man.'

He would have to be careful, brief though their journey was. The camaraderie he shared with White Qilin might take root even with his opponent in a death duel. The boy made an effort to clear his heart.

He picked up the Desolate Sword from where it had fallen and turned away.

Perhaps the thunder of his palm technique had driven away the birds. The forest path was quieter than before.

"Burying the bodies would be a task in itself. We should leave now."

At Jung Yeonshin's words, Namgoong Hwashin came over. He had been watching the exchange between his companion and his elder half brother.

"Any internal injuries?"

His question was blunt, perhaps because he had much on his mind. When the boy answered that he had none, Hwashin nodded silently.

Behind them, Namgoong Mi watched Jung Yeonshin with her lips pressed shut.

"Let us go," the boy said.

The party sheathed their swords and set off again. The Martial Alliance's attack was no small matter.

Yet it was not a reason to delay their journey either. All people of the martial world were like that. They won renown by stepping over corpses.

'Ah.'

As he turned and walked away, Jung Yeonshin suddenly realized how numb he had grown to killing. He felt nothing at all.

He had cut down his enemies. That was all. It had not been like this when he killed the Tyrant Sword Tribe warrior at the Jeong Clan Estate. Back then, he had needed to force himself to look away from it.

Was it because he was racing against a lifespan with a fixed end? Or because he wanted to live, even if it meant stepping over the corpses of his enemies?

PAT. PAT.

Raindrops heralding summer began to fall, a few at a time.

They descended close together, like tears shed on behalf of the Martial Alliance's dead.

With their killer so indifferent, he thought it might not be a bad thing for the heavens to grieve for them. After all, Jung Yeonshin himself might end up like them at any moment.

The rain striking the leaves made a clear, pure sound. Only Namgoong Mi's irritated groans intruded as noise.

Jung Yeonshin walked silently through the summer rain.

He realized anew that he had become a man of the martial world. The drops striking his shoulders were cold.

* * *

SHHHHHH

"This endless rain is tiresome."

Weariness tinged the voice of Namgoong Mi, Lord of Changling Blossoms. The downpour quickly swallowed even her words.

Rain seemed to be pouring over the entire surrounding region. The summer drops, like glass beads, soaked the party through.

They had just entered the southern reaches of Southern Zhili: Huizhou, home to the Namgoong clan's main estate.

"The streets are deserted. Even allowing for the rain, it feels unusually quiet."

Namgoong Hwashin spoke from beside Jung Yeonshin. Though his blood relatives were with them, he had deliberately stayed by the boy's side.

His bearing seemed to make his allegiance clear, and Namgoong Mi shot him a look of distaste.

Walking ahead over the muddy ground in a bamboo hat, the young clan head answered.

"Because even all this rain does little to help the crops."

"Because of the poor harvests?"

"You are right, Hwashin. It has become a serious problem lately. Even when the common folk are lucky enough to grow food, their troubles do not end. Strong men take it from them. It is not uncommon for martial artists to do the same. Commoners and martial men alike must eat to survive."

"The crop failures have reached even Southern Zhili..."

"Wandering warriors and the unorthodox care little for the lives of common folk. Many commit such outrages. With people so unsettled, you will have to carry plenty of dried provisions whenever you travel the martial world from now on."

Jung Yeonshin watched the young clan head as he spoke with Namgoong Hwashin.

He had been assessing Sejin throughout their journey together: the presence he revealed from time to time, his extraordinarily deep internal-energy breathing, even his gait, as though he practiced footwork in daily life.

He was already a fully accomplished martial artist. Jung Yeonshin could not feel confident of defeating him at all.

'If Supreme Flame Dragon had no openings, he would be like this man.'

So Jung Yeonshin thought. Here was a genius who had trained longer than him and worked hard without growing complacent. He ought to be strong. Could he cut this man's head off?

"Hm? What is it?"

Sejin turned, seemingly sensing his gaze through energy detection. The boy shook his head.

It was then that Namgoong Mi, who had been regarding Jung Yeonshin coldly, approached with light steps.

"We will be at our house soon. I wonder whether you enjoyed your last little tour of the martial world."

"Is making pointless conversation a hobby of yours? What a low form of amusement."

She snorted at the boy's unruffled reply.

Namgoong Mi was a member of the direct line who had learned the clan's secret eye technique. She had the discernment to see weaknesses in martial arts.

The palm technique unleashed by the Desolate Fortress's Lightning Genius was no exception. Its telltale preparation and the precision of its direction were flawed. It was clumsy enough to be a serious weakness in the world of experts.

It was unfinished. Only its power was remarkable.

'He will be dead soon, yet something about him feels strange.'

It had been that way from their first meeting. Something about his manner of speaking had felt incongruous.

That should hardly have been possible. It was not a feeling someone she had never seen before should evoke.

Of all her peers beneath heaven, only her elder brother Namgoong Sejin had earned her recognition.

The Hwangbo clan's Supreme Flame Dragon was dissolute, and Namgoong Hwashin, with an assassin's blood in his veins, was lowborn. Someone outstanding in martial prowess, character, and lineage alike was hard to find anywhere in the world.

There were nine young female experts known as phoenixes in the martial world.

She prided herself on standing unrivaled among those Nine Phoenixes.

None of the rising generation disciples met her standards. No one had left a deep impression on her.

There was no one she needed to make an effort to remember. Only the name of the Zhongnan Sect's wiji myohwa, who had earned a dragon's title, rankled her. That was because they had never met.

The Namgoong direct line belonged to the foremost regional noble clan in Southern Zhili.

Namgoong Mi had never faced a threat to her survival.

Her world was defined by values that wandering warriors and members of small and middling sects would have called a luxury. She liked the phrase, "I alone am supreme."

'Lightning Genius Jung Yeonshin.'

She had received the information her clan had gathered. She had thought of him as a fairly outstanding newcomer who was getting in the way.

The boy who had given the Desolate Fortress a pretext to strike at Namgoong. That was all. He had not yet grown into someone worthy of discussing the affairs of the world. His age alone precluded it.

Then what was it? Why did he not feel unfamiliar?

Her heightened senses, honed as an expert in internal qi arts, would not let the question go.

She had pondered it all the way to Huizhou. Then a possibility suddenly occurred to her. It was so absurd that she had not thought of it immediately.

Only once had Namgoong Mi ever been forced to look down at an enemy.

The impression had been devastating. Even now, that person occupied a corner of her mind.

The mask with its mouth open like a wicked dragon, the callused hand that had gripped her throat, the indifferent eyes, the blood-red robe and stern bearing that suited those sinister, destructive waves of qi.

"You."

Namgoong Mi's lips moved.

"Would you show me your hand?"

* * *

The Desolate Fortress's Gold-Piercing Martial Repository.

It rose like a fortress of snow-white stone walls, a library no less imposing than the inner citadel of the Desolate Fortress itself.

Its marble walls were beautiful. The stone was said to have come from the royal house of the Dali Kingdom, which had fallen at the hands of the Desolate Fortress Master.

The warriors guarding its gates maintained a stern watch. The Desolate Fortress's secret martial manuals were housed within.

The fortress's foundational arts, brought from the imperial court.

Its own martial arts, devised by its warriors and compiled into secret manuals.

A comprehensive collection of martial knowledge. It was all gathered here.

"Was it around here...?"

The vast interior carried the distinctive scent of books.

A white-robed warrior of the Radiant Demon Squad stood before a row of antique shelves.

The girl in white martial robes had succeeded Lightning Genius Jung Yeonshin as the squad's youngest member: Shin Sobin, who had begun to be called the Radiant Demon Squad's White Cat.

As though living up to that name, which scarcely qualified as an epithet, she surveyed the library with large eyes resembling a white cat's.

"What are you looking for?"

"Ah."

Shin Sobin turned at the deep voice that suddenly came from beside her.

She had been so absorbed that she had not noticed another warrior approaching until he was right next to her.

"Senior Hong Joogeom."

He looked like a soldier who had survived a hundred battles. His presence was rugged and powerful.

The middle-aged warrior, scars scattered across his face and neck, nodded solemnly.

"Indeed. We met at the blue-rank promotion examination. A cherished daughter of a distinguished family like yours even remembers my epithet. And after I lost so helplessly to your squad senior, too."

"It was a memorable match. Senior Lightning Genius is, well... difficult for anyone to keep up with."

"Should I call you the Radiant Demon Squad's White Cat?"

Shin Sobin's delicate brows drew together. It was a nickname she disliked.

Hong Joogeom gave an awkward smile, as though he understood, and changed the subject.

"Many fortress warriors linger around this spot. Whenever I see them, I wonder whether I should offer some advice. I came over because I recognized you."

"Many?"

"Naturally. These are the martial arts of our youngest blue-robed expert. Anyone would take an interest. They must be full of brilliant ingenuity. See how every copy has been borrowed, leaving none here? They cannot be taken outside the Gold-Piercing Library, so people must be practicing them at the training ground behind it."

"It will be difficult with only the manuals."

"That shows how hard they are trying. The Radiant Demon Squad's hall will be packed when Lightning Genius returns. Who could have known he would leave behind all his martial arts just before setting off for the Namgoong clan duels? By now, countless people must be praying fervently for his victory."

"Ah... Anyway, I am too late again."

Shin Sobin let her twin braids droop.

"Even the Black Captains have looked at them," Hong Joogeom said, as though consoling the downcast girl.

"The Classic of Initiating Transcendence, Evading Swift Step, Demon-Slaying Gentle Flowing Strike, Infinite Blossom Fist Strike, Radiant Sword Art... Secret manuals of martial arts that could rank among the world's supreme skills. He gave them all, as though intent on sweeping up merit points."

"There was plenty of talk about that in our Radiant Demon Squad too. People wondered whether it was too much to give away."

"I wondered myself. Once a martial art spreads widely, ways to counter it inevitably emerge. Even setting aside the Demon-Slaying Gentle Flowing Strike, which no one has managed to begin learning, it is puzzling. Are not all the arts he donated to the Gold-Piercing Martial Repository his mainstays? Even if he urgently needed merit points, it is hard to understand."

"That is something Senior Lightning Genius wants, too."

Shin Sobin lifted her head with a little laugh.

"He once said he wanted to counter the counters to his arts. He thought it might take his mastery a step further. Even if I mastered the first three forms of Infinite Blossom Fist Strike and stood before him, he is the sort of person who would calmly bring out a fourth... Well, it would be hard enough to match the creator's proficiency in the first place."

"Counter the counters..."

For a moment, Hong Joogeom seemed at a loss for words.

"That aside."

This time, Shin Sobin spoke first.

"I never knew I had so many rivals. If hordes of fortress warriors begin learning Senior Lightning Genius's arts, he will have plenty of people honoring him, even if fortress law does not recognize a master-disciple bond. He might as well become a founding patriarch."

"He has founded no sect, so sect leader or patriarch would not quite fit. But a Lightning Genius lineage is already taking shape within the fortress..."

Hong Joogeom of the Annihilation Squad spoke slowly.

"Grandmaster would be the proper word."