Sarak.
The grand circular table rustled with the hems of colorful garments.
Figures, adorned with exceptional auras, took their seats. Their vividly colored attires shone with luster.
Each garment was pristine silk. True to the reputation of noble families of orthodox sects, who dedicate their mornings to rigorous training in their sacred arts, their complexions were extraordinary.
They were people who toiled daily within prestigious clans. Not a single one skipped their ritual purification and bathing.
"The azure sky was remarkably clear, almost as if it were spring."
A middle-aged man, with a noble air, sat in the seat furthest from the door. In his left hand, he held a white crane fan adorned with deep blue tassels.
His snow-white robe harmonized perfectly with his porcelain skin, while his slender facial lines and thick eyebrows added to his appearance.
He had the looks befitting the father of Zhuge Hyeon, the Fan Dragon.
He was the head of the Zhuge Clan.
Often referred to as the reincarnation of the Sleeping Dragon.
Although he did not possess the unparalleled intellect of Zhuge Liang of Shu, the title was given to him for his resemblance to Zhuge Liang in appearance and grace.
His martial arts, befitting the head of a great family, also played a part in earning him the moniker "Sleeping Dragon Reborn". Rumors even circulated that he could influence the weather on occasion.
The head of the Zhuge Clan continued speaking in a calm tone.
"It's hard to believe how magnificent the sword of youth was as it cleaved through the heavens. It was dazzling and beautiful, don't you think?"
"…"
He was speaking about Jung Yeonshin, the Lightning Genius.
They had gathered to discuss countermeasures.
The Radiant Demon Squad Leader had ultimately participated in the Opening Tournament. It seemed inevitable that mud would be splattered on the face of their alliance.
The tyrannical divine power displayed by the black-clad youth of Desolate Fortress reminded some of the veteran warriors of Ma Yeonjeok.
The purple-robed monster at the age of thirty.
"We endured the humiliation and made a difficult decision, but it seems that in human affairs, justice always prevails. Their foul schemes didn't work."
The Zhuge Clan Head smiled faintly.
A silence followed. The atmosphere in the room was at odds with his expression. A chilly air lingered over the antique round table.
There wasn't a single person unaware that the true powers of the alliance were deeply enraged.
"What about the Leader?"
The middle-aged swordsman, with fierce eyes, abruptly asked.
It was the head of the Murong Clan. His dark pink robe was even richer in color than that of his son, Murong Mingjun.
Even his casual placement of his hand on his sword was strangely natural. For the Greatest Swordsman of Liaodong, any eccentricity was permissible.
"Ah, I've been quite disorderly."
The Zhuge Clan Head's smile deepened.
"The story I just recited was the Alliance Leader's words."
"That lone, upright wandering swordsman?"
The Murong Clan Head furrowed his brow and retorted.
It was a solemn gathering. Only rays of light streaming through the windows entered the chamber in silence. Dust particles drifted languidly through the beams illuminating the table.
Despite the Murong Clan Head casually referencing the Sword Saint, no one reacted. Only the expressions of a few younger prodigies, like Zhuge Hyeon and Gongsun Min, wavered slightly.
Zhuge Hyeon and Ak Yerim, who had parted ways with the Radiant Demon Squad Leader on the Western Peak Path, had safely returned.
Fortunately, they hadn't encountered the Eternal Heaven Sword Demon while heading toward Seven Crowds Gorge.
It was thanks to a short letter delivered via the spiritual beast owned by Chui So-ok, the Little Sword Queen of Mount Dianqing Sect. They were acquaintances to begin with.
'This is unpleasant.'
Zhuge Hyeon thought.
No matter what others said, the Radiant Demon Squad Leader he had encountered was a youth with a rather pure side.
Despite his extraordinary martial prowess at such a young age, he listened intently to Zhuge Hyeon's stories.
When interacting with commoners, he behaved like a boy his age. He even mourned the death of the Azure Qilin.
He could have easily condemned the Namgoong Clan along with him, yet he didn't.
'If Lightning Genius had been from one of the noble clans, he would have belittled the character of the deceased and claimed his actions were justified. I've seen it too often, even in my own family….'
The young Radiant Demon Squad Leader did no such thing. He was a budding hero as fresh as spring grass. He shouldn't be subjected to this intrigue.
Just as disillusionment surged to his throat, Zhuge Hyeon heard a sound transmission.
―Don't let it show, my foolish brother.
The girl sitting beside him lowered her gaze indifferently. She swept her black hair, tied with sky-blue silk, over her neck, avoiding looking at anyone in the room.
Still Deep Eyes, Zhuge Qing-ya, Zhuge Hyeon's younger sister.
She was a prodigy in the sacred arts of sight and strategy from an early age. She was also renowned for her beauty, rivaling her brother's.
Hearing her transmission, Zhuge Hyeon adjusted his expression and looked directly at his father.
Fortunately, the Zhuge Clan Head wasn't watching them. He nodded slowly instead.
Their father, speaking softly, said,
"Our Sword Saint seems to have been thoroughly impressed with the innate talent of the young leader of Desolate Fortress. Isn't it quite surprising? Many of the Lightning Genius' achievements, as widely known, were accomplished with palm techniques rather than swordsmanship. He is more a born fighter than a sword genius, yet the Sword Saint saw another side to him."
"Frankly, what the Alliance Leader thinks is none of our concern. Our focus should be on the uninvited guest. Isn't this quite a spectacle? Their antics have reached a point where it's hard to ignore."
"What does the Murong Clan Head suggest?"
"I've observed the Lightning Genius closely and noticed a sword scar on his lower left abdomen. The aura emanating from the wound was extraordinary. It wasn't just any mysterious sword scar."
The Zhuge Clan Head smiled.
"I noticed it too. It must have been a strike from the Eternal Heaven Sword Demon."
"If it's not a wound that will heal easily, perhaps all we need to do is devise a plan to bide our time gracefully. The more he fights without proper recuperation, the more his internal injuries will deepen. Our younger generation may even seize victory."
As the Murong Clan Head concluded his statement, a colorless light flickered in his eyes.
At that moment, a young lady sitting in one corner of the round table slightly raised her head. The sunlight danced on her elegant jawline.
The Zhuge Clan Head noticed her movement and responded immediately. She was dressed in spotless white martial robes, like the steward of a prestigious family.
Raising her hand to draw attention, she spoke slowly.
"From the start, there's been a flaw in calling him an uninvited guest, hasn't there? Did we not invite him? We summoned the envoy of Desolate Fortress to uphold the alliance's dignity and to proclaim to the world that we fear no imperial watchdogs."
"Are you criticizing the hasty response to reschedule the match?"
The Murong Clan Head asked.
"What I'm saying is that we need more constructive discussion. Buying time gracefully? If no clear method comes to mind… wouldn't a ten-strike duel suffice?"
It was a statement that drew attention. The Ye Clan, established during the late Yuan Dynasty, had long held power alongside the Blood Flame Cult and other families.
Their financial power, stemming from their commercial history, was immense.
Even after pouring vast funds into the establishment of the Murim Alliance, they remained a major source of funding.
This meant their influence within the alliance was substantial.
The Zhuge Clan Head showed interest.
"A ten-strike duel, you say. Are you suggesting adding a condition to the Opening Tournament?"
"The crux of the matter is maintaining the alliance's dignity, isn't it? Whether we struggle against a young master, lose outright, or barely win after prolonged fights against him, the damage would be significant. By limiting the match to ten strikes, it becomes both a contest and not one, allowing both sides to save face. Let's look at the bigger picture. Let's not be entangled by the Radiant Demon Squad Leader alone."
The Ye Clan Head proposed. The Zhuge Clan Head stroked his smooth chin lightly.
"Indeed, if we proceed that way, a lesser fighter could snatch victory from a stronger one… it will undoubtedly be a fight full of variables. There's some merit to this idea."
"There are many justifications we can attach. Given these chaotic times, claiming that it's to preserve the strength of righteous swordsmen seems reasonable, doesn't it?"
The discussion continued.
Zhuge Hyeon and Zhuge Qing-ya silently listened.
Ak Yerim, Gongsun Min, and Murong Mingjun did the same, not in a position to hastily voice their opinions.
The conversation among those who moved the upper echelons of Jianghu was serious and remained so until the meeting ended.
Previously, Radiant Demon Squad Leader, whom Ak Yerim and Murong Mingjun had recklessly invited to a banquet, had already stepped into an entirely different realm compared to the younger generation of geniuses.
"You and Lightning Genius. I heard you bonded during your journey to Western Peak Path."
The Zhuge Clan Head spoke as he left the meeting hall, accompanied by his two children.
Speaking while keeping his eyes on the path ahead, not on his children, Zhuge Hyeon lowered his head slightly and opened his mouth.
"We exchanged only a few words."
"Ridiculous. Are you saying you didn't even think of deceiving that child? Had it been your sister, she'd have figured out the name of the servant he fancied as a child. Any information possessed by Desolate Fortress' black-clad youth should be treated as treasure."
"…My apologies."
"That's enough."
The Zhuge Clan Head said indifferently.
"Qing-ya, listen."
"Yes."
Zhuge Qing-ya, walking a step behind, answered softly.
"We've retrieved the Azure Qilin's body again. We've also managed to recover a few corpses of those Profound Martial Alliance scoundrels who died at Western Peak Path."
"…"
"Examine them yourself. Although we've already analyzed much of Lightning Genius's martial arts techniques… the uncertainty of a ten-strike duel is too high. Use a fresh perspective and don't overlook even the slightest clue. Report back. The Radiant Demon Squad Leader is very strong."
"Understood."
The girl responded emotionlessly.
For a moment, Zhuge Hyeon's face twisted. He found nothing about the situation to his liking.
Neither he nor his sister, submitting to the tyranny of their authoritative father, nor his father, who engaged in scheming under the guise of righteousness for the benefit of the clan.
He shared this sentiment with his friend, Namgoong Se-jin.
They were strong as scions of prestigious families, yet weak as righteous martial artists. Even now, at the age of twenty-eight.
Zhuge Hyeon watched his sister's simple, retreating steps.
He thought absently, envious of Namgoong Se-jin, who had met his end on his own terms.
The clear sunlight tilted, and the autumn wind stole away time as it passed.
Zhuge Qing-ya was tasked with examining the corpses of those who had fallen to the Radiant Demon Squad Leader. Wounds inflicted by martial arts often told many stories.
The pressure marks left by internal energy could reveal the style of a sect. The trajectory of a sword scar could approximate the wielder's technique.
For her, it was especially easier, at least when it came to the wounds of the living.
The girl had mastered the Zhuge Clan's secret sight arts early on. From birth, she had been marked as an heir to the clan's eyes and was forced to dedicate herself solely to sight arts.
Her exceptional talent among the younger generation of the clan had also played a role.
Still, this was her first time analyzing martial techniques through traces left on corpses. Her father often expanded the limits of her and her brother's abilities in such ways.
He taught them to pursue the clan's interests while wearing the mask of righteousness.
"Young lady, why are you here…?"
"I was ordered."
She replied in an emotionless tone.
Passing by the bewildered subordinates, she crossed the threshold of a secret chamber. She was soon guided further in.
A man without expression led the girl into a deep, secluded area.
The things that passed her field of vision felt both familiar and foreign. Dim sunlight, darkened floorboards, the cold texture beneath her feet.
When she entered the room at the end of the corridor, an old servant of the family stood guard outside the door.
Inside, Zhuge Qing-ya faced five lifeless bodies lying with their eyes closed. Her gaze wavered slightly.
Sarak.
She bowed twice toward them. Her tied-back black hair flowed down, and the sky-blue hem of her robe swept across the floor twice.
Rising, Zhuge Qing-ya looked down silently at Namgoong Se-jin's corpse.
His closed eyes rested gently. His pale complexion stood out.
Even though it had been preserved with Mosan Sect techniques, a corpse was still a corpse. Not even in death could he find rest, a price paid for being born into a noble clan and enjoying its power.
It was deeply tragic. Both the life of the Azure Qilin and her own circumstances.
"Setting aside his power…"
She deliberately murmured, as she scrutinized the traces of the sword that had run through Namgoong Se-jin's body.
She wanted to leave this place as soon as possible. She examined the wound that reached up to his ribs and confirmed the collapse of his side caused by palm techniques.
She fully imprinted the martial arts of the Radiant Demon Squad Leader, Lightning Genius, into her mind.
A faint light of energy flickered in Zhuge Qing-ya's pupils. The color of leaves seemed to pass through her jet-black eyes.
'There's an intent that transcends all martial arts.'
Her eyes widened. She sensed something nearing the realm of intuition.
The flash of inspiration that occasionally struck prodigies resonated with the traces left by Lightning Genius. Her genius intuition surged forward.
A brilliant blue flame flickered in her pupils, brimming with intellect.
She thought.
'It's intuitive, urgent, and swift.'
A subtle sense of awe crossed her face.
What could this boy, who might already be the best among his peers under the heavens, possibly lack? She had once thought it unreasonable for such talent to exist in the world.
Though the Hwangbo Clan's Lazy Flame Dragon was said to have the greatest talent in their clan, his Solar Divine Meridian came with its price.
Why was it, then, that the Radiant Demon Squad Leader managed to infuse such intent into his martial arts? As the youngest black-clad master of Desolate Fortress, he already had everything.
'The scars deepened over time. That means the sword strikes landed properly. The effectiveness of his techniques increased significantly. His martial skills must have steadily improved during the life-and-death battle… there's no other monster like him under the heavens.'
For the first time,
Zhuge Qing-ya felt a spark of interest on her face.
She deliberately nurtured the small feeling of intrigue, using it to bear the guilt of examining a corpse.
Zhuge Qing-ya wondered. What could be the flaw in the most perfect boy of Jianghu?
Could she, like her brother Zhuge Hyeon, who had bonded with the Azure Qilin and later with Lightning Genius, connect with the young leader of Desolate Fortress through mutual empathy and compassion?
* * *
Radiant Demon Squad Leader.
The undefeated streak of Lightning Genius Jung Yeonshin continued without interruption, even after accepting the proposal for a ten-strike duel.
The boy found it slightly baffling. This was a form of combat overwhelmingly advantageous to him.
Physically, it was, and strategically, against the masters of Mount Hua Sect, it was too.
After all, the Great Swordmaster of Mount Hua were the strongest experts in the Opening Tournament.
He was said to rival Ma Jin in his prime—a realm where flowers bloomed with the sword.
Compared to the new leader of Desolate Fortress, his mastery of the sword's intricacies was unmatched. The longer the duel dragged on, the slimmer his chances would become.
'So I planned to end it quickly, but they've established a rule for that.'
The boy thought, facing the leader of Murong Clan's Heavenly Spirit Sword Unit.
"I've heard rumors that you're a transcendent master. That all sacred arts seem tailored to your body from birth, which explains why you've shown such prowess since childhood. Is it true? I find it hard to believe."
The middle-aged swordsman, clad in red, asked.
Below his wide brow were narrow eyes that gleamed with sharp, probing light.
The upper echelon of the Murim Alliance had already analyzed all of Lightning Genius's martial arts.
The Radiant Demon Squad Leader's techniques leaned toward single-strike forms.
Infused with internal energy resembling the influences of orthodox sects, they were explosive techniques. This worked exceptionally well in life-and-death scenarios.
'But the world of true masters is different.'
The leader of the Heavenly Spirit Sword Unit scrutinized the boy's entire body.
Among true experts, the flow of combat was what mattered. Techniques were strung together to create forms, blending swordsmanship and fist techniques seamlessly.
This was why wanderers could never best orthodox sect masters.
If an opponent could endure a single strike and seize the momentum with systematic swordsmanship, there was no way to prevail.
There was no need for the ten-strike rule. The leadership, fearful of a drawn-out defeat, had erred.
They had rushed to create a form of combat where even if their warriors lost, they could maintain their dignity. It was different from the position of the young Radiant Demon Squad Leader.
The Heavenly Spirit Sword Unit leader continued speaking to the silent boy.
"Your existence feels as if it belongs to the realm of the supernatural. So many rumors surround you. Most of them must be nonsense. The ten-strike rule is truly regrettable. True swordsmen communicate through the vibrations of their swords. But with this, there won't even be a whisper of contact in your palm."
"You talk too much. Has the duel started?"
Jung Yeonshin asked.
A long smile spread across the Heavenly Spirit Sword Unit leader's lips. With a relaxed posture, he lightly tapped the unsheathed sword on his waist.
He intended to use the ten-strike rule to his advantage. He held a personal grudge against Desolate Fortress.
By pretending to hold back and then defeating the boy, he aimed to severely diminish the black-clad warrior's status.
"I'm already allowing you to advance. Feel free to step in at any time. I've even crossed swords with the Leader of the Immortal Spirit Wood among your black-clad warriors…"
It was then.
A gust of wind swept through.
Suddenly, a sword flickered within the Heavenly Spirit Sword Unit leader's vision.
'What…!'
A blade carrying immense force came slashing toward his brow. The gust engraved in the air seemed to transform into a sword in an instant.
He didn't even know when it had been drawn. In a fleeting moment, a storm burst forth from the sweeping blade.
The strike was terrifyingly sharp. The surroundings blurred. His vision became filled with a single point.
The swordsman of Murong Clan instinctively drew his blade. There was no time to position himself. He struck upward without hesitation.
Ssssshh!
The air around the blade distorted faintly, creating an almost translucent ripple. Yet no impact was felt in his hand. It had been a feint aimed at exploiting psychological gaps.
Only the cold sensation trailing straight across the back of his neck was vividly clear.
The boy, with his black cloak fluttering, appeared belatedly, positioning his sword along the side of the leader's neck.
The white light emanating from the blade cast a pale glow over the Radiant Demon Squad Leader's eyes.
A peculiar transcendence radiated from the boy's entire being. It was an uncanny energy.
If the monk Bodhidharma had lived as a mortal, would he have appeared this way? Perhaps it was just the nature of the situation that made it seem so.
"Truly, no contact at all! Such remarkable insight!"
From the spectator seats, a rascal wearing a sky-blue hero's scarf shouted.