Jung Yeonshin suddenly recalled the martial arts he had left in the Desolate Fortress's Gold-Piercing Martial Repository. He had donated everything except the Movement Art.

His martial understanding was constantly advancing. Arts frozen in the pages of secret manuals were insignificant compared to his lifespan.

How many merit points would he receive?

Donations of one's exclusive martial arts to the fortress were converted into merit points. He had been told their value was assessed by how much they strengthened the fighting force as a whole.

That meant the assessment did not rely solely on the judgment of supreme masters. It differed from the values of martial artists. The imperial court apparently had standards of its own.

'No one had begun learning the Demon-Slaying Gentle Flowing Strike, but it still earned a lot of merit points. They said that was because Dharma-powered martial arts were rare.'

There was a reason the rewards for donating martial arts had suddenly come to mind.

Jung Yeonshin raised his eyes and kept his mouth shut.

"I asked for your hand."

Namgoong Mi stood before him with a provocative smile. Her wet hair hung down to her white nape, and she gazed steadily at him as though she had never been annoyed by the summer rain.

'Has she noticed something?'

He recalled his assumed identity in the Blood Flame Cult. Being exposed would be troublesome.

He suddenly wondered whether Namgoong Mi's head would be worth as much as the Infinite Blossom Fist Strike. She was a direct descendant of one of the Eight Families.

Perhaps she was worth no less than the Tyrant Sword Tribe's Vicious Rakshasa Swordsman. In value, that was, irrespective of martial prowess.

Still smiling, Namgoong Mi spoke again.

"Don't get the wrong idea. I'm only curious how much you've practiced your swordsmanship."

"You mean to openly gauge your enemy's accomplishments?"

"Enemy? How could you be an enemy? Fertilizer to help our house's fame flourish once more, perhaps."

"You have no shame. Your opponent is the White Qilin."

"But you're the one I'm curious about."

She even leaned her face a little closer. There was something deeply sinister about her. The gleam in her eyes reminded him of the Seventh Apostle. It meant she was scheming.

"..."

Jung Yeonshin walked on without answering further. They had reached the Namgoong clan now. There was no reason to give her an opening.

"You might have made a fine pair."

The young clan head said something absurd. His smile as he looked at his younger sister and the boy was gentle, unlike Namgoong Mi's.

Jung Yeonshin decided not to converse with either sibling. He walked silently beside Namgoong Hwashin, and soon they stood before the largest complex of halls in Huizhou.

The walls stretching away on either side were as vast as city fortifications. He had seen the estate once on his way to the Dragon-Phoenix Summit, but it was still far too large for a mere family.

Its appearance alone made clear why people called it a noble clan.

Namgoong.

"Namgoong..."

Hwashin murmured as he looked up at the plaque above the main gate.

Jung Yeonshin studied his companion. His usual steadfast spirit was nowhere to be seen.

Yeonshin had defeated Namgoong Mi so easily because his Movement Art countered her freezing martial arts. Could Hwashin defeat her? He would have to overcome both the sorcerous oath of loyalty and that vicious cold.

'The Command Bureau said we had to win every match.'

They had said the Desolate Fortress delegation's mission would only be meaningful if they slew every opponent. The Namgoong leadership had to be replaced with members of the collateral lines.

"It is an honor to welcome such outstanding guests to our house."

The young clan head nodded to the gatekeepers and smiled. His gesture toward the main entrance was unhurried.

Jung Yeonshin gave a slight nod and stepped forward.

At last, the Namgoong clan.

* * *

He unpacked and bathed. After being assigned a guest room, Jung Yeonshin changed into a spare Desolate Fortress uniform.

Then he was invited to a formal Namgoong dinner.

Was there a martial art for cultivating a brazen hide? He wondered as he sat in the neatly appointed room.

Men and women in extremely luxurious silks sat around a huge oval dining table, along with the young clan head and Namgoong Mi. Hwashin sat beside Yeonshin.

He was trembling ever so slightly, but all ten people present would likely notice. Even at a glance, not one of them was anything less than an expert.

Every one of them was unlike the young clan head. Did they regard a concubine-born son as nonexistent?

No one seemed interested in Hwashin. The direct descendants' eyes were fixed entirely on Jung Yeonshin.

"So you are Lightning Genius."

Jung Yeonshin looked at the man who had addressed him.

He was middle-aged, and his elegant indigo robe suited him. This was the man said to embody the Namgoong clan itself.

His features were sharply defined. Yeonshin could see the faces of the young clan head, Namgoong Mi, and Namgoong Hwashin all reflected in his.

His gaze suddenly fell to the Namgoong clan head's waist. A bluish sword hilt hung there.

An inscription engraved in the hilt showed faintly in the lamplight.

Ambition Soars Above the Clouds; the Southern Wall Stands Too High.

—Even an ambition that transcends the mundane world cannot surmount the southern wall.

Because of the tale associated with the sword, that freer interpretation was famous. Also called the Southern Wall Sword, it was the symbol of the Namgoong house.

It was said to be an unsurpassed famed sword forged by the iron race. He could feel a numinous energy enveloping the master of the Namgoong clan.

Perhaps sensing his gaze, the clan head smiled faintly.

"Do you know of the rebellion of the Ming Cult that rose in Tianshan? Our house's previous supreme patriarch slew their Three Exalted Ones. This heirloom was bestowed upon us by the emperor, but I have seldom had occasion to draw it. For that, I can only thank you. What other opportunity would I have to measure my prowess against the Divine Sword Squad Leader?"

"Your praise is more than I can bear, Clan Head. I have already heard your apology and thanks from the young clan head."

Jung Yeonshin answered calmly. It was a pointed remark about the clan head's failure to apologize for the Azure Wild Valley incident.

He immediately felt Hwashin's breathing grow rough beside him for a moment. By now, he felt sorry for him.

"It is astonishing that you can speak so even after seeing the Southern Wall Sword."

The woman seated to the clan head's left spoke. She was the most lavishly adorned expert present.

"My husband and children are the wall that protects Southern Zhili. The Desolate Fortress claims to care about the people's welfare? If that were truly so, it should never have sent a challenge to a duel to the death. This happened because of your petty nature. Even if you cannot see the larger world, how dare you speak of apologies?"

She was the Namgoong clan head's principal wife. Her shamelessness surpassed even Namgoong Mi's.

"I see that the Lord of Changling Blossoms takes after her mother's side."

Jung Yeonshin spoke evenly. He meant that her daughter, Namgoong Mi, resembled her.

The principal wife's brow furrowed. Such insolence was likely something she had never experienced as a noblewoman. Waves of qi immediately spread from five or six people around her.

Jung Yeonshin rose without restraining himself.

They could do nothing to him or Hwashin now anyway. They had made their journey openly. The entire martial world was watching this affair.

He had sensed all manner of presences behind him when entering the Namgoong estate.

The Beggars' Sect of the Nine Sects and One Gang, the batlike Hao Faction, the Lingering Spirits of the Thirteen Unorthodox Skies... There would be more than a few.

"Last time, you discarded me once I had served my purpose, though I was your ally. Now I am an enemy who has walked defenseless into your home. Your family's patience in refraining from shamelessly killing me is remarkable. How impressive that you manage not to show your true nature. Could it be because the eyes of the world are fixed on this duel?"

"Young Clan Head. Do not grant that child a gentle passage to the heavens."

The principal wife spoke coldly. The young clan head recoiled. He had been listening with visible discomfort throughout.

"This is my affair now! All of you elders, please...!"

It happened then. A tremendous vibration erupted beyond the high ceiling. Even the table and other furnishings shook violently.

["You ill-bred wretch! What did you just dare say—!"]

An aged voice struck in every direction like a monstrous earthquake. It carried an immense quantity of core energy.

Six Directions Voice Transmission. An ultimate technique of the highest order, said to fill heaven and earth in every direction with a single shout.

The ceiling splintered with a crack.

BOOOOM!

A purple figure plunged straight into the center of the table, like a bolt of lightning.

The waves of qi swirling from that imposing body seemed ready to choke the breath from everyone present.

Only then did dust rise like a hazy fog. An old man was straightening amid the thick cloud.

"Say that again."

The voice that had unleashed Six Directions Voice Transmission rang with fury.

Keen, blade-sharp eyes. A massive frame.

His snow-white beard reached his solar plexus, as elegant as a celebrated calligraphy brush.

The purple robe draped over his densely muscled body had a collar that stood as rigidly upright as his temperament.

'Grandfather.'

Jung Yeonshin stared at Ma Yeonjeok, somewhat dazed. He was not the only one.

As the Namgoong experts looked on in consternation, the old man seated to the clan head's right murmured gravely.

"Divine Sword Squad Leader..."

"Namgoong Council of Elders Leader. Are you still trapped in the distant past? How long has it been since I passed the Divine Attainment Sword on to the next generation?"

Ma Yeonjeok, head of the Desolate Fortress's Ma clan, spoke mercilessly.

He turned his eyes back to the principal wife. Someone with no justification whatsoever had persecuted his grandson.

It was outrageous. Fury once again showed on his wrinkled face.

"You ungrateful wretches dare discuss my grandson's death! The fortress master has not ordered the extermination of your mongrel Namgoong clan!"

"My wife misspoke. Please calm your anger, Ma Clan Head."

The Namgoong clan head spoke evenly. Amid the surging waves of internal power, he alone seemed composed.

After glaring at him briefly, Ma Yeonjeok spoke again. He seemed to have suppressed his rage.

Only his eyes still blazed with a colorless light, as though they might burst into flame at any moment.

"The duels will take place on the Seventh Night Festival. Prepare yourselves with humility."

"We shall."

The Namgoong clan head answered.

Only then did Ma Yeonjeok turn. His eyes trembled for an instant when they met Jung Yeonshin's.

He angled his head slightly, as though gauging his grandson's mood. His manner changed in an instant.

"I'm sorry I could not accompany you from the beginning."

"Not at all. I heard the fortress master had assigned you a mission."

"I had just completed it ahead of time. I spotted you as you were entering Huizhou, but a rather powerful blood fiend was stalking you from close behind. I could not readily intervene."

"A blood fiend...?"

"It appeared to be an Apostle of that wicked cult."

Looking irritated, Ma Yeonjeok continued.

"You needn't worry now. Our fortress's Elder Council Leader is in pursuit. A careless old man he may be, but his martial prowess is beyond doubt. He will soon bring back that temptress's head."

"The Elder Council Leader..."

"Let us find other lodgings. How could you practice regulated breathing and circulation in this cesspool?"

Jung Yeonshin nodded slowly and followed Ma Yeonjeok. Hwashin silently took his place beside him, sparing only a single glance behind.

* * *

They unpacked anew at the largest inn in Huizhou. Everything, from the beds to the drinking water, was of the highest quality.

Jung Yeonshin surrendered himself to time and contemplation.

In the midst of this, a proposal for a winner-stays-on format arrived from Namgoong Mi.

She suggested beginning with the youngest contestants and allowing each victor to continue fighting.

It seemed she intended to surrender after cutting down Hwashin and Jung Yeonshin.

"Some insignificant little thing doesn't know her place. Those Namgoong wretches are quite something too, overlooking arrogance like this."

Ma Yeonjeok clicked his tongue as he skimmed the letter. Jung Yeonshin looked at Hwashin.

"I would like to accept. What do you think, Young Master Namgoong?"

If they accepted, there would be no opportunity for the White Qilin to distinguish himself. His turn would come only after Jung Yeonshin lost to the young clan head and died.

The boy would rather have it that way. Having traveled with the Namgoong siblings, he understood that Hwashin's mind was the problem.

He had been raised to lead Sword Night, the Namgoong clan's band of assassins. He said the prohibition against harming the direct line had burrowed into his will through sorcery.

A dramatic victory for the White Qilin was a vain hope. That was the reality.

'That only happens in heroic tales,' Jung Yeonshin thought.

"..."

Would Hwashin become a burden to the Desolate Fortress? Would he struggle to avenge his mother with his own hands?

After lengthy consideration, he agreed to the winner-stays-on format. Another opportunity to overcome his past would come.

That day, Jung Yeonshin stayed silently by his companion's side for a long time.

The days passed. As he refined his martial arts, the Seventh Night Festival was upon them before he knew it. Was it because he had been moving ceaselessly all this time?

He had merely begun to contemplate his martial arts in silence, yet a different world opened before him. A profound shift in perspective occurred.

'The fourth move of the Infinite Blossom Hand... I can complete it in actual combat.'

The day of the life-and-death duels between the Desolate Fortress and Namgoong.

Jung Yeonshin reclined against his bed. He suddenly closed the copy of the Diamond Sutra he had been reading. The words, “Let the mind arise without abiding anywhere,” disappeared between its pages.

"Today's the day! How thrilling."

"Who did you bet on?"

"Here in Southern Zhili, it has to be the Namgoong clan, doesn't it? You could hardly count a handful of rising talents in all the world who could defeat their young clan head."

"That's meaningless. What do you make of the Desolate Fortress's Divine Sword Squad Leader?"

"And what about the Namgoong clan head, then?"

It felt like only yesterday that the young clan head had spoken of poor harvests, yet Huizhou was enjoying an unexpected boom.

People had flocked from across the martial world to witness the earth-shaking duels. Martial artists, merchants, commoners, and royalty alike were said to have gathered.

The great city's clamor reached its peak that day.

He had heard that gambling was rampant as well. The streets seemed to seethe with madness.

"Young Master Jung."

Hwashin called to him with a stiff expression. Jung Yeonshin slowly rose.

'Namgoong Mi isn't the problem.'

He thought of the young clan head. Every time he did, excitement heated his mind to a white blaze.

Fear of death, the desire to win that he had somehow acquired as a martial artist, fascination with the peerless king-style sword arts...

That was it. He saw nothing else.

Not the cityscape that unfolded as he stepped outside the inn. Not the Divine Sword Squad Leader, whom he was meeting for the first time and who glanced his way. Not even the Divine Sword Unit, said to be the strongest of the seventeen squads under the Divine Sword Squad.

Before he knew it, he was standing in the heart of Azure Wild Valley, where the Seventh Apostle had once captured him. He had walked there in a daze.

A wordless roar rose.

The vast gorge was packed with people.

"Lord of Changling Blossoms! Look this way just once! I love you!"

"Lightning Genius of the Desolate Fortress! Don't you harm a single hair on our lady!"

"Young Master Jung, Lightning Genius! Set justice right in the martial world!"

They gathered like an army preparing for a decisive battle, their voices thundering. It was an extraordinary sight, as though the entire martial world of the Central Plains had assembled here.

"I wanted to know who you were, but I suppose I'll have to examine the inside of your corpse instead."

Namgoong Mi stood with an infuriating smile. The duel seemed to have begun. Namgoong and Divine Sword Unit warriors surrounded them on every side.

"You and Hwashin. I could never have grown fond of either of you."

Her lips moved.

The treasured sword in her hand shone brilliantly. Coiling power surged forth, rushing toward him with a chill.

HUMMM!

Jung Yeonshin roused his Movement Art to its utmost. Since consuming the high-grade spirit pill, this was the first time he had done so against anyone other than the Seventh Apostle.

He imagined the enemy before him was the Blood Flame Cult's Seventh Apostle. Only then could he finish quickly.

The Movement Art at Great Completion awakened. It began filling his eight extraordinary meridians and twelve primary meridians with majestic flame.

With a soft footfall, Namgoong Mi executed mysterious footwork. She approached lightly, making it difficult to predict her next direction.

The Namgoong warriors were said to study the Book of Changes among the Four Books and Three Classics, gaining a thorough understanding of the Eight Trigrams. They incorporated the principles of Enchantments into their Mobility Arts.

In that instant, Jung Yeonshin took a single step with Evading Swift Step, Second Step, just as he had when breaking through the Desolate Fortress Master's pressure to claim the Lightning Immortal Treasure Liquor.

His foot came down firmly.

The wind rising from his toes pushed away every wave of qi. One step unraveled everything that deceived the eye.

Namgoong Mi's gracefully swaying figure stopped in sharp clarity, as though a curtain had been drawn aside.

"Ah...?"

Had the foresight of his upper dantian reached her too? Extreme terror appeared on her lovely face.

It rendered her almost unrecognizable. Had the unfinished palm technique he showed her before instead lulled her into complacency? She had underestimated him far too much.

'Even though we're no longer traveling companions.'

SHIIING!

A ray of light filled Jung Yeonshin's right hand. He drew his sword like a comet and slashed upward without pause.

The Desolate Sword plunged in, tearing mercilessly through the Namgoong clan's secret Protective Aura.

The Radiant Sword Art's trajectory swept onward unhindered. In an instant, white light broke across Namgoong Mi's neck.

He felt it through the hilt. He had severed her head completely.

WHOOOOSH!

The martial force gathered at the sword's tip raised a gale. The Desolate Sword returned along a path like a halo around the moon.

It brushed past Namgoong Mi's collapsing body and slid back into Jung Yeonshin's scabbard.

One stroke.

"I don't care. Whoever you are."

The boy muttered calmly to the corpse.

The vast Azure Wild Valley fell silent, like an extinguished ember.