"Crazy bastard!"
"Kill him!"
They were the companions of the man nearby.
With their faces full of rage, they charged forward, but the boy did not move, leaving the sword embedded where it was.
He only stared at the Tyrant Sword Tribe Leader.
'Whether I die now or later.'
It was the day he realized the shocking truth of his terminal life.
A pillar that had supported his rationality had completely collapsed. It seemed it would never return.
"Stop."
A deep voice echoed as if resonating from the bottom of the cave.
The voice of the Tyrant Sword Tribe Leader carried the weight of his presence. The charging men froze.
"Your spirit."
The Tyrant Sword Tribe Leader gazed at the boy.
His abyss-like eyes stared quietly, and Jung Yeonshin pushed out his chest, as if daring the man to split it open.
"It surpasses all the others in this manor combined."
The warriors of the Tyrant Sword Tribe visibly wavered.
It was clear that such praise from this man was rare.
"Just kill him and silence his mouth! Even if it's the Desolate Fortress, no beast would dare question a corpse drenched in blood!"
Someone spoke of eradicating the boy.
It was likely a companion of the red-haired woman who had just died.
His short, blood-red hair and crimson martial robes were identical.
He seemed to be a warrior from the Bloodflame Cult, who had come with the Tyrant Sword Tribe.
'Let's hope they don't find out there was no prior contact.'
At this moment, Jung Yeonshin was realizing the terror of the Thirteen Heavens.
The ambush had accounted for every factor. Such was the handiwork of sects that dominated the world.
To think that someone from a trivial place like the Jung Family Manor had ties to the Desolate Fortress.
"Chief Steward!"
Jung Yeonshin shouted loudly. A man who had been sprawled near the doorway flinched.
He had been pretending to be dead.
"Y-yes, young master."
The chief steward stood up unsteadily and responded. He was no ordinary figure either. Jung Yeonshin spoke again.
"You said you were establishing a communication network spanning Xin'ya. These arrogant fools didn't even bother setting up a perimeter and tried to butcher this manor with barely a dozen men. Do you mean to say that the Jung Family's ears and mouth cannot even reach Xiangyang?"
"No, sir. Xiangyang… Xiangyang is within reach."
Xiangyang, located at the northern edge of Huguang Province, bordered Nanyang, where Xin'ya County was.
No matter how vast the Central Plains were, this distance was not far.
A messenger trained in martial arts could reach it without major trouble.
'Though they might have already sent for help from the Desolate Fortress.'
It was unclear whether the family had considered Jung Yeonshin's maternal lineage when deciding how to respond to the crisis.
But no matter how powerful the Tyrant Sword Tribe was, they couldn't possibly know the intimate details of Jung Family affairs.
"If you can't kill me…"
Jung Yeonshin tightened his grip on the sword.
"Then stop your hands now."
The sword slid out from the dead man's back. The blood that trailed after it covered the manor in silence.
A boy who seemed barely fifteen years old had taken control of a place filled with the leader and subordinates of a major sect.
The Bloodflame Cult warrior shouted furiously.
"You've already made enemies of us! It's obvious you'll spread the word, so how can we let you live?"
Though his words were directed at Jung Yeonshin, it seemed he was actually protesting to the Tyrant Sword Tribe Leader.
This moment was crucial. Somehow, the balance of power had shifted.
Jung Yeonshin spoke sharply.
"Fool. Do you think even the Desolate Fortress, hailed as the greatest force in the martial world, would dare provoke the Thirteen Heavens directly? All this for the sake of avenging the complaint of the former sect leader's grandson? Does that even make sense?"
If he were the grandson of the Desolate Fortress's lord, it might have been possible.
The lord of the Desolate Fortress, acknowledged by the emperor as equal to a prince, was the guardian of the great 'World Tree', a tree said to bear fruits granting immortality.
But Jung Yeonshin was not of the Desolate Fortress's bloodline.
If he were, the Jung Family's retainers wouldn't have been swayed by superstitions about his birth.
"The grandson of the former Swordmaster of the Desolate Fortress?"
Cliff Shearing Sword, a swordsman from the Zhongnan Sect, murmured while checking Yeo Il-shin's condition.
A boy with a retired leader of the Desolate Fortress's martial forces as his grandfather.
A status that made the aftermath of his death more unpredictable than the aftermath of letting him live.
The Thirteen Heavens were massive sects ruling across the lands.
But harming the grandson of a Desolate Fortress elder was a different matter entirely.
It was as reckless as taking a Hanlin Academy scholar's family hostage in the imperial court.
"The Royal Martial Sect, created by imperial clans to prevent Murim. Truly troublesome."
The Tyrant Sword Tribe Leader finally spoke.
"But the reason I let you live has nothing to do with that."
"Tribe Leader!"
Puh-uck!
The Bloodflame Cult warrior's head exploded.
Before anyone could sense the strike, invisible sword energy erupted.
"Bloodflame Cult. I told you to stop."
The Tyrant Sword Tribe Leader spoke to the corpse.
The remaining red-haired warrior trembled, but the tribe leader's black eyes turned back to Jung Yeonshin.
"I like you. Your talent and spirit. You have the makings of one who could reach the heights of the martial world. Had you no ties to the Desolate Fortress, I would have taken you as my disciple."
"Gasp!"
"That Tyrant Sword Tribe Leader…"
Gasps of shock erupted everywhere.
Not only the subordinates but even the Zhongnan Sect experts couldn't hide their astonishment.
Unperturbed, the Tyrant Sword Tribe Leader continued.
"If you wish to seek revenge, I will accept a duel anytime."
"..."
Jung Yeonshin sheathed his sword. He then turned and walked toward the faintly breathing survivors.
The Tyrant Sword Tribe Leader, watching the boy with an inscrutable expression, turned to the Zhongnan Sect warriors.
"This land. I will not allow another sect to establish itself here. You have one day."
He looked at Yeo Il-shin, whose face was contorted, and said,
"Leave."
* * *
"Young master."
"Chief Steward."
There was no time for greetings with the approaching chief steward.
Even gathering the corpses had to wait.
Even though there were physicians, there was no divine healer comparable to Hua Tuo in this place. For those with severe injuries, the only thing that could be done was to let them pass peacefully.
He looked at his eldest brother, Jung Namsan, and his sister-in-law. They were corpses.
Carefully pushing them aside, he forcefully stomped on the floor where they had collapsed.
Clunk.
A hidden underground chamber opened. It was a secret room they had entered and giggled in as children.
As expected, there was a five-year-old girl curled up with her eyes closed.
Her pressure points had been sealed. Her sleep acupoint was pressed by a hand imbued with internal energy, forcing her into slumber.
"Hye-ah."
Jung Yeonshin picked up his niece and left the room.
A young man talking with the steward turned his head.
It was Jung Jungsan, the second son of the Jung family and an appointed disciple of Zhongnan Sect.
When their eyes met, he looked away, suggesting he had been hiding somewhere.
Without a word, Jung Yeonshin handed Hye-ah over to him.
"Raise her in Zhongnan. No matter what it takes."
"Y-you?"
"I'll be too busy looking out for myself."
Jung Yeonshin said firmly.
"Raise her in Zhongnan? That's impossible…"
Unlike before, he couldn't even meet Yeonshin's eyes and stammered nervously.
Judging by his reaction, it seemed he had been hiding near the main building, witnessing his half-brother's fight.
What a pathetic man. Jung Yeonshin finally noticed the sticky sensation on his cheek and wiped away the blood with the back of his hand.
"Do you know nothing about the orthodox sects? Children raised as disciples from five or six years old become the core strength of their sects. Beg them if you have to. Hye-ah's talent surpasses yours, so they'll take her in."
"R-right."
Jung Jungsan bit his lip and looked down at his niece.
Jung Yeonshin studied him for a moment, relieved to see that he seemed more burdened by responsibility than overwhelmed by shame.
Just then, the masters of the Zhongnan Sect approached.
As always, Yeo Il-shin led the group, followed closely by Cliff Sword and third warrior, Silencing Fist.
Despite their pale faces and bloodstains suggesting internal injuries, they had assisted in the cleanup. They were truly righteous martial artists.
"Young warrior."
The title had changed. Just yesterday, they had called him the son of the manor lord.
Yeo Il-shin's expression was complicated.
Despite her personal frustrations, she looked at Jung Yeonshin as if he were an extraordinary talent beyond imagination.
"Are you heading to the Desolate Fortress?"
"I suppose so. There's nowhere else I can rely on and grow stronger."
"The path doesn't only lead to Xiangyang."
"…?"
"How about ascending Zhongnan Mountain with us? I sincerely recommend it."
"Gasp!"
Only the steward and Jung Jungsan were shocked.
Cliff Sword and Silencing Fist behind her showed no reaction, as if the offer was expected.
Their faces betrayed their desire for talent.
A recommendation directly from the great elder of the sect implied that the boy was an exceptional swordsman.
"The great elder of one of the Nine Great Sects… I am truly honored."
Despite his words, Jung Yeonshin's expression remained calm. He had already made his decision.
Yeo Il-shin, sensing urgency, added more.
"I intend to recommend you as the sect leader's disciple. You're more than capable."
"…!"
This time, everyone was visibly shocked.
Becoming the direct disciple of the Zhongnan Sect's leader meant learning supreme techniques.
Not to mention gaining the vast support of one of the Nine Great Sects.
The current sect leader of Zhongnan was recognized as one of the top ten swordsmen in the world.
His widely known swordsmanship, combined with his love for chivalry, had already been witnessed numerous times.
'People in Shanxi praise him as the best among the Five Great Masters of the Central Plains!'
The steward inwardly screamed.
Jung Yeonshin had to accept this offer. No matter how grand and powerful the Desolate Fortress was, he was only the grandson of a retired martial artist.
The minimum benefits from Zhongnan's leader far outweighed those of the Desolate Fortress.
It was the Jung family's way of thinking, valuing being a snake's head over a dragon's tail.
'Young master! Please!'
The steward's silent plea did not reach Jung Yeonshin.
The boy clasped his hands in a martial salute.
"I will never forget the great elder's offer."
A polite refusal.
Yeo Il-shin's refined face showed a trace of resignation. She quickly composed herself as though she had expected his decision.
"You have confidence in yourself. Confidence to rise higher in the Desolate Fortress."
"…."
"That potential is tempting. The Tyrant Sword Tribe Leader must have seen it too."
"My apologies."
"No need. Just remember, the doors of Zhongnan are always open to you."
Jung Yeonshin looked at Yeo Il-shin and asked,
"I heard the great elder is one of the oldest among noble clans. Do you perhaps know how to obtain the fruit of the World Tree?"
"The fruit of the World Tree! Then you truly are…"
Yeo Il-shin's expression shifted as if she realized something, then turned regretful.
"I haven't even lived half of my permitted lifespan. I have no authority over the World Tree. Only the leader of the Desolate Fortress can grant it to another."
"Then I must go to the Desolate Fortress after all."
"It won't be easy. Even among noble clans, it is a sacred item."
"There's no other way. I'll have to become the Swordmaster and accomplish great feats."
"I'll support you from afar."
Yeo Il-shin returned his salute. Her noble character would remain in Jung Yeonshin's memory for a long time.
"Then."
Their bows marked their farewell.
Zhongnan Mountain in Shanxi and Xiangyang lay in completely opposite directions. Yeo Il-shin needed to deliver news to her sect quickly, even if she had to leave alone.
Cliff Sword and Silencing Fist lacked the lightness skills of the great elder.
Jung Jungsan planned to leave with the remaining two the next day.
For now, they had to witness their father's final moments.
The lord of the manor was still alive, barely.
"It's me, your third son."
Jung Yeonshin knelt, supporting his father's back.
His eyes trembled slightly.
The fatal sword wound on his father's abdomen was beyond saving.
If he had to go, he could have at least treated him better.
"Why… why are you so strong? How could you…"
His lips trembled, drained of strength.
Jung Yeonshin sensed time was running out. It was almost a premonition. His father wouldn't last long.
"I created and mastered it. I call it Jung Clan Movement Arts."
Instead of lamenting, he boasted.
How his father took it was up to him.
Jung Yeonshin had long been disillusioned with his family. Whether it was seen as a gift or defiance, he left it to his father's heart.
"Jung Family Martial Arts. I see."
His father's trembling lips opened again.
"The Jung clan has created a divine art. My foolishness… my son, Jung Daemyung's son… the third son of this unworthy lord has created a divine art."
"…."
The boy listened silently.
His father spoke one last time.
"You… have… the qualities of a great master…"