Namgoong Mi had once spoken of surrender and persuasion.

These duels were unusual. The disparity in martial seniority was extreme. Apart from four participants, everyone was an established master, someone entitled to instruct the rising generation. A bloody struggle between them would have made a strange spectacle.

In other words, there was no shame in a young martial artist withdrawing after fighting at least one duel to the death here. That was what Namgoong Mi, the Lord of Changling Blossoms, had been counting on.

But now, at this very moment, his scheming younger sister's head was falling.

The whole world seemed to crawl.

The sword of light brushing past Namgoong Mi's body, the neck on which not even blood had gathered, the body collapsing as its footwork lost all balance in an instant... The gruesome scene imprinted itself slowly upon him.

And yet the ones fighting were Lightning Genius and his sister.

Namgoong Sejin, the Blue Qilin and young head of the Namgoong clan, thought that this had always been possible.

He had not stopped her before the duel. He could not have. Two of the martial world's foremost houses had agreed to a contest to the death. Unless the combatants were vastly separated in seniority, honor took precedence over life in such a duel.

A fight against Lightning Genius or the White Qilin. For Namgoong Mi, it had been all or nothing.

She herself had proposed these winner-stays-on death matches, beginning with the youngest contestants. If she failed to cut down Lightning Genius and the White Qilin, she would die instead. She must have known that too, even if she had never envisioned her own defeat.

'So this is how you go.'

The merciless blade of the martial world had fallen. The Lord of Changling Blossoms had been unable to withstand Lightning Genius's sword. And so she had died, here and now.

It was the outcome of a death match. The crowds packed around the tiered mountain ridges must have come knowing what kind of contest this was.

Yet Namgoong Mi, the Lord of Changling Blossoms, was one of the Nine Phoenixes of Murim, a direct descendant of the renowned Namgoong clan. No one could have expected a single stroke to take her head.

Little wonder that the countless assembled martial heroes stood in silence.

"..."

The young clan head, too, had prepared himself for this.

This was Murim. The Reaper arrived without warning. Even a stray sword bringing death was hardly uncommon.

But perhaps because he had been a poor elder brother, or because he could bear no more of the sight of his sister's death, he suddenly turned toward his father beside him.

The master of the Namgoong house.

A stern, cold-blooded clan head whom no one in the family could approach. When Namgoong Hwashin had sought to leave their house, he had ordered Sword Night's assassins to kill his own concubine-born son.

His face was the same now as it had been then. His expression had merely stiffened a little.

"Young clan head," the Namgoong clan head said. "Prepare yourself."

"... Yes."

As always, his father's words were brief.

He was a cunning tyrant who had seen Lightning Genius's abilities and stood by while the Blood Flame Cult acted. He had made even his conscience and his children's lives into foundation stones for the clan.

His heir's life had been treated no differently. He had never escaped the path prescribed by his father's will. Helping Namgoong Hwashin leave home ranked among what he himself considered his life's achievements.

"Your unworthy son takes his leave," the young clan head said.

His father did not answer, merely giving a slight nod of his thick head.

After the Lord of Changling Blossoms came the young clan head. With his inhuman father's impassive gaze upon his back, he slowly stepped toward Lightning Genius, the boy who stood with his breathing entirely undisturbed.

Jung Yeonshin stood calmly with two swords at his waist. His long robe, similar in color to the Namgoong clan's indigo martial garments, fluttered with a faint scent of blood.

'Fearless.'

The young clan head envied Jung Yeonshin as he stood with his head inclined. He had once told the boy he wanted freedom, like the Hwangbo clan's Supreme Flame Dragon.

Lightning Genius already possessed it. The bearing of a warrior shining so brilliantly at such a young age was dazzling. It seemed brighter than anything else beneath heaven.

He stepped forward to measure his martial skill against the boy's.

STEP.

Only then did the Namgoong side begin to speak. Commentary on the duel sprang up on the spot.

Some maintained a grave silence, but many others were ever watching for opportunities within that other martial world known as a noble clan.

"The Lord of Changling Blossoms..."

"How could this happen? She executed the Unhindered Clear Stream Divine Steps precisely."

"Strange footwork. The sword move was immensely destructive too."

Some members of the household whispered in bewilderment. Most were young men from collateral lines.

The collateral lines vastly outnumbered the direct line, whose status depended on the tenure of the current clan head.

The Namgoong clan was enormous. Far more of its members felt neither joy nor sorrow at Namgoong Mi's death.

Would they restrain their words and actions in the presence of the direct line? They did not. The shock delivered by the Desolate Fortress's Lightning Genius had been too great. To the Namgoong household, Namgoong Mi had been like exalted royalty.

"I never imagined she would die so futilely."

"Futilely? Your eye technique must be lacking. That sequence of forms embodied a lifetime. The accumulated achievement of Lightning Genius's life was more fiercely earned than the young lady's."

"Truly powerful. Worthy of representing the Desolate Fortress."

"But can he match the young clan head's sword? How many at that age have cultivated the king-style sword arts to such a degree?"

Their conversation reached Jung Yeonshin's ears as well. He was still driving his Movement Art to its utmost.

His heightened senses would not readily subside. That was good. This was precisely how it should be.

'Strong.'

It was because of the young clan head, who was now walking toward him with an upright bearing.

His presence, previously dispersed like mist, seemed to gather into a blade and reach out. His momentum had taken tangible shape. For an instant, Yeonshin felt as though his skin were splitting, and gooseflesh rose over him.

It was hard to see him as the man who had shared that brief journey through the martial world. Nor was he merely a noble clan's destined master.

He was a swordsman who had honed his abilities to the pinnacle. For now, it was more accurate to call him an opponent beyond Yeonshin's measure.

The two faced each other ten paces apart.

"As for my younger sister, Mi," the young clan head began, "I will say no more. Foolish as she was, she met a rather fine end as a warrior... That is enough."

"..."

"You and I... One of us may die, or both. We stand here with the ends of our lives at stake. I do not consider this fight a dispute between Namgoong and the Desolate Fortress. It is a duel to the death. If I depart this world, I do not wish to close my eyes as a pawn."

Then a bold smile appeared on his handsome, kindly face.

"All my life, I have lived comfortably in Namgoong's shadow. It must sound like the complaint of a man who wants for nothing, but it was a shackle."

"Indeed it does."

His smile deepened at Jung Yeonshin's brief response.

"Even so, I wanted to cast it off at least once. They say some find freedom in the space between life and death. I still wonder whether that is true. I would particularly like to experience it now. Are the abilities of the Desolate Fortress's Lightning Genius equal to the task?"

It was a provocative question.

Jung Yeonshin did not answer. He had to draw his sword again. Once more, he grasped the hilt of the Desolate Sword.

He always did before an important battle. Famed though Northern Radiance was, it was not as familiar in his hand as the Desolate Sword.

"..."

A clash between the Desolate Fortress and Namgoong. Had Namgoong Mi's death brought home the weight of this death match between great powers?

The crowds surrounding Azure Wild Valley remained silent. Only the occasional fierce gust blew through the gorge.

Amid it all, the two men's waves of qi grew dense.

The young clan head's smile vanished.

"Let us begin."

"Yes."

There was no referee. This was the world of masters.

SHING.

They drew their swords simultaneously.

A dry wind toyed with their hair and passed. Jung Yeonshin suddenly sensed it.

'His reach. He's spread his sword's domain wide.'

It felt like a breeze brushing his skin. It had begun the moment the ornate treasured sword emerged in the young clan head's hand.

His presence was exceedingly sharp. It was chilling, as though an invisible forest of blades had sprung up.

The king-style sword arts. A supreme art, right from the start.

The intuition of his upper dantian seemed to sound an alarm in his head. Jung Yeonshin knew at once: if the young clan head attacked now, there was no way to evade it.

His body abruptly grew heavy. Even standing was difficult. It felt as if the air enveloping him had taken on the weight of a thousand geun.

'Will it work again?'

He thought of the second Evading Swift Step. Evading Swift Step, Second Step: footwork that drove away qi released outside the body. It had splendidly shut down Namgoong Mi's Mobility Arts.

Could it unravel the king-style sword arts too? He had pondered that question since before the duel. Apart from Evading Swift Step, he had found no other answer.

Even as he considered it, the young clan head was steadily approaching. He seemed unable to use lightness techniques while deploying the king-style sword arts.

'Let's meet it head-on.'

Jung Yeonshin changed his approach. Schemes? Those did not suit the nature of his unique martial arts. Lightning Genius was a warrior whose senses led the way.

He had survived every fight through insight swifter than thought. He decided to clash directly.

He slid a foot forward.

Even that small step required every muscle in his body. Without a physique tempered by the Movement Art, he would have been unable to move at all.

THUD!

Dust rose with his step. At the same time, the burden on his entire body eased considerably. The implications were significant.

Every movement in this fight would have to follow the footwork of Evading Swift Step, Second Step.

SWISH!

Just how keen was his energy detection?

The young clan head showed no surprise. He slashed down with an indifferent expression, as though he had expected this.

Could he adjust the king-style sword arts as naturally as breathing? As Jung Yeonshin grew faster, so did his stroke.

CLANG!

Jung Yeonshin nearly frowned. He immediately layered core energy in his right arm with the Classic of Initiating Transcendence.

The sword, which had nearly driven straight down and cleaved him in two, stopped. Tremendous vibrations seemed to shake even the blood vessels in his gripping hand. He had never experienced sword force like this.

'So this is its weight.'

Jung Yeonshin calculated through his senses.

If a single stroke was this heavy, how should he apply his layered core energy? In which direction should he execute Evading Swift Step, Second Step? What was the right way to counterattack?

From then on, he lost himself in the fight. It began abruptly.

Two sword paths tangled like a snarl of threads. Every movement that extended a blade was ponderous. Heavy swordsmanship. This battle was fought within a domain of weight.

BOOM! CLANG! CLANG!

Waves of force leaping skyward in every direction resembled flames. Jung Yeonshin's Radiant Sword Art was dazzling, its moves constantly scattering hazy streaks of light that disrupted even his opponent's vision.

He made the Zhishi pressure points supporting his spine the foundation of the Classic of Initiating Transcendence. Fluidly layering core energy compensated for his comparatively deficient internal energy.

BOOM!

Whenever he lacked weight, he supplied it with an immediate stamping step.

As the young clan head's sword brushed his cheek, Jung Yeonshin stepped in once more.

With both arms raised and the Desolate Sword held down beside his face, he advanced without hesitation. Their blades scraped against each other, still locked together.

A fierce grinding rang out an inch from his right cheek, as if sparks might fly.

'Here.'

The moment Jung Yeonshin released his left hand, the young clan head added force to his treasured sword. He pushed Yeonshin back, sword and all, while turning through a half circle himself.

His movement fully embodied advanced Mobility Arts. The martial principles within it were profound.

'Again.'

That was the nature of this fight.

The young clan head rigorously maintained his distance, never closing in more than necessary. Whenever the boy seemed about to gather qi, he immediately thrust a checking stroke.

He seemed wary of the unfinished palm technique Jung Yeonshin had deliberately shown him earlier. The boy suddenly spoke.

"Isn't that why you keep talking about freedom?"

"Hm?"

"Your way of fighting. You're bound to a particular method. It's stifling."

"A fine attempt at provocation."

The young clan head chuckled. He did not look as though he had realized anything new.

But his sword's momentum changed.

ROOOAR!

The widely spread domain of the king-style sword arts contracted into a storm.

The waves of qi compressed around the young clan head's treasured sword were immensely heavy. It felt as though an area-wide martial art had become a method for slaying a single opponent.

He commanded his momentum.

He gave orders to his sword.

Though he was not of the Forbidden City's Ju clan, his sword carried the majesty of a sovereign. His attack extended without hesitation.

BANG!

Even the impact was different. It jarred the right hand gripping Yeonshin's hilt with tremendous force.

The Desolate Sword's blade shuddered as though it might snap, and Jung Yeonshin was driven helplessly back. Then he realized: the time had finally come to turn the battle.

He readied his left hand, activating the Demon-Slaying Gentle Flowing Strike and the Demonic Asura Blood Art simultaneously.

Jung Yeonshin felt waves of qi pouring indiscriminately from his body. There was no way the young clan head would fail to detect them.

THUD!

And indeed, he did. With a heavy stamping step, the young clan head charged straight ahead. He swelled rapidly before Yeonshin's eyes, along with the Namgoong clan's treasured sword, perpetually wreathed in a gale of qi.

Jung Yeonshin forcefully executed Evading Swift Step, Second Step toward the approaching blade. The young clan head knew this footwork's effects too.

As though seeking to preserve its sword force, he twisted the treasured sword's trajectory.

In that instant, Jung Yeonshin slipped into the opening and passed to the outside. The original Evading Swift Step, EVADING SWIFT STEP FIRST STEP. A step that threw open the distance between them.

He raised his left hand. Blood Art qi and Dharma power churned within it.

Even gathering them into a sorcerous formation posed a problem. Drawing them out as one complete palm technique took time.

'It doesn't matter.'

He extended his hand anyway, making a small motion above the young clan head's blade as it passed beside him. It looked as though he were toying with the king-style sword arts.

The truth was otherwise. The upper dantian in Jung Yeonshin's head blazed. He constantly adjusted the angle of his left hand.

The Blood Art qi and Dharma power were refined by that kingly internal energy. It took only an instant. He used the young clan head's immense waves of qi to regulate his own palm technique.

WHOOOOSH!

Immediately after riding against the momentum of the king-style sword arts, martial force whirled in the center of Jung Yeonshin's palm.

It converged upon its ultimate point with astonishing speed. He had skipped an entire stage of executing the palm technique in an instant.

"Hup!"

The young clan head turned at once. His astonishingly swift movement brought the collision forward.

The sword strike flowing out of his turn sent Jung Yeonshin's Desolate Sword flying. An enormous vibration rang through Yeonshin's grip.

He pressed in regardless, reaching toward the young clan head's flank.

And unleashed his palm technique.

BOOOOM!

It erupted at a distance of two paces. For an instant, Azure Wild Valley itself seemed to shake.

The tremendous blast overflowed into a long, rolling echo.

His ears rang. Jung Yeonshin retreated beneath the immense recoil.

Was this how it would feel if a Thunderclap Bomb exploded in his left hand? He had consumed high-grade spirit medicine and honed this technique with the Seventh Apostle.

Its power was utterly different from when he had competed against Namgoong Hwashin.

Then—

"Aaaaaah!"

Screams rose from the Namgoong side behind Jung Yeonshin as he retrieved his sword.

Not just one or two. They seemed to come from established masters whose eye techniques surpassed his.

Soon, Jung Yeonshin could see it too.

"..."

He kept his mouth shut. He had to.

The side of the young clan head's waist had been blown away. Not even blood dripped from it.

It was an instantly fatal wound. That he remained upright at all was strange.

Was the numinous qi of the Divine Sovereign Art protecting his body? For a moment, Jung Yeonshin forgot his own martial arts.

The young clan head's might and will were astonishing. This could scarcely have happened unless he were reaching another realm at this very moment.

Then it happened.

"Stop!"

The young clan head shouted, light shining in his utterly clear eyes. He took in every Namgoong master charging toward Jung Yeonshin.

Unlike Namgoong Mi, he had earned their love and respect. Many were willing to disregard even the terms of the duel to kill Jung Yeonshin.

Namgoong Sejin, the Blue Qilin, spoke again.

"Though the trappings of young clan head may have constrained my actions..."

A long breath followed.

"The end of Namgoong Sejin, the warrior... is mine to decide."

"..."

Namgoong Sejin exuded a truly inspired spirit. As everyone fell silent, he slowly continued.

"Do not sully my death."

Then he slowly moved only his eyes. Radiating an uncanny light, they fixed upon the last opponent of his life.

"What is that form called?"

Jung Yeonshin understood the intent behind the question. He answered at once.

"It has no name."

"Good. A name occurred to me."

"Please, tell me."

"Would you call it Radiant River? The waters of the River of Three Paths seem spread before my eyes, yet they are so bright they almost blaze. Is it because my heart is willing? I think 'radiant,' meaning to shine with splendor, would suit it."

"..."

"One day, this martial art will be discussed among the greatest beneath heaven. I feel it. Will you use the name I have given it?"

"Infinite Blossom Hand, Radiant River. If anyone asks, that is what I will say," Jung Yeonshin answered calmly.

"Good..."

"You seem to wish it to become widely known. I, too, must travel throughout the martial world. It is my nature. I cannot do otherwise."

The boy found himself speaking at greater length.

Had his clumsy consolation reached him? Namgoong Sejin smiled faintly.

"Yes... Do that. In perfect freedom..."

Jung Yeonshin thought that he could not know what inner ordeals the Blue Qilin had endured as the young clan head.

At the very end of his life, he did not look toward his family.

He died as a man who walked the martial path, his eyes filled entirely with Lightning Genius, the warrior who had defeated him.

His threadlike breathing grew fainter, then vanished altogether.

Slowly.

He stopped breathing with his eyes open. Only his eyes still gleamed, sustained by the powerful internal energy remaining within him.

"..."

Namgoong Sejin's death resonated deeply within Jung Yeonshin as well.

What should he pursue besides a longer life? As a man of the martial world, was his life the only banner he bore?

The Blue Qilin, who had stood with both feet planted firmly on the earth, slowly collapsed.

THUD!

"He's... dead?"

"The young clan head, the young clan head..."

"Quickly... Quickly!"

"Move! Utmost urgency—extremely urgent! This is utmost urgency!"

An uproar erupted in an instant.

A thunderous sound rose as enormous crowds began leaving Azure Wild Valley.

Everywhere, messenger pigeons of every sort flapped into the air. The significance of the Lord of Changling Blossoms and that of the Namgoong young clan head were vastly different. This would change the balance of the martial world.

All Murim's eyes had been focused on this place.

Jung Yeonshin stood there as the victor, regretting that he had failed to catch Namgoong Sejin before he fell.

Waves of qi bursting in every direction stirred fierce winds. The boy silently weathered them with his sword lowered in his hand.

Beside his shoulder, the golden character for Desolation shimmered in the sunlight.

The gorge's rushing winds ceaselessly lifted the hem of his blue robe.

It was the moment the epithet Lightning Genius was engraved upon all the Nine Provinces.

Fame.

Its first effects were not far away. The instant Jung Yeonshin happened to turn his head, he was made to feel them.