The late cold froze the dawn air of the mountain behind the Jung Manor.
Jung Yeonshin thought,
'If the wind blowing through the valley had a color, it would be ash gray.'
The people of Jung Manor, who once ruled the region, lay beneath the soil, seeds for the vitality of the next year.
They carried and buried bodies throughout the night.
Jung Yeonshin, the chief steward, a few surviving workers, and the masters of the Zhongnan Sect were covered in dust and dirt.
His niece, huddled in a corner, alternated between crying and sleeping.
Jung Yeonshin glanced at Hye-ah and spoke.
"It's over."
"Yes, it is. This mountain will be filled with sorrow. It didn't even have a name."
The chief steward agreed, but Jung Yeonshin shook his head.
"No. I meant that the Jung Manor is over."
"······."
"Cliff Sword, Silencing Fist, I thank you once again for your help."
Leaving the bitter-faced steward behind, he bowed to the martial artists of Zhongnan Sect.
Even covered in dirt, their eyes shone with vigor.
Their respectful gestures showed clear regard, even for a mere boy.
"Now that you're part of our sect, that's only natural."
"And... it's hard to deny our failure to prevent this."
The heavy expression between the thick brows of Silencing Fist reflected his words, following Cliff Sword.
Jung Jungsan, prepared to leave with them, held his niece Jung Hye-ah in his arms, staring gloomily at his younger brother.
He seemed to have changed slightly after witnessing the bloodshed.
"No words can apologize for years of built-up grievances."
Jung Jungsan's voice carried his exhaustion.
"When we meet again, I will be an older brother you can depend on. I will do my best, so you must survive."
"Though you're starting martial arts training in Zhongnan late, you lack exceptional talent. That's my honest opinion."
For the first time, Jung Yeonshin spoke candidly to his elder.
He wondered why he hadn't done so earlier, it felt liberating.
"You'll have to train as if your life depends on it. Take care of Hye-ah."
"...I will."
With that, his second brother, his niece, and the Zhongnan martial artists departed.
Turning back, Jung Yeonshin saw the steward, packed and ready, standing with the workers.
"Where will you go, chief steward?"
"You recall I said I was establishing a network? There are branches of Jung Manor scattered throughout Nanyang. Since the Jung bloodline survives, I must use the remaining assets to support them."
"But the Jung Manor has fallen."
The steward gave a faint smile.
"It was a landlord's family. The manor's farmlands aren't confined to Xinye."
Jung Yeonshin realized he had underestimated the steward's capabilities.
He was too good for the Jung Manor, a remarkable man.
"You know I'm heading to Desolate Fortress. I hope we'll meet again."
"Of course."
The steward, skilled in martial arts, could take care of himself.
"I hope you live out your days in peace. Take care of yourself."
"I wish you success, young master."
This was his farewell to the steward and the Jung Manor.
The steward silently watched the boy's retreating back.
'Live out my days in peace... Has any Jung family member ever wished that upon me since I served their ancestors?'
Jung Yeonshin sensed the gaze but didn't turn back.
His steps, pushing through the grass, carried the air of a new beginning.
* * *
It was his first time outside Xinye County.
The steward had given him detailed directions to follow the main road, but he still drew attention.
On the broad road, where sunlight began to warm the dirt path at dawn, the route connecting Nanyang and Yangyang also linked Henan and Hubei provinces.
With a major road to Shanxi nearby, he often found himself checking whether his pack was still intact.
So many people passed by.
"A beggar with unusual clothes."
"Isn't that silk? Using silk for martial wear..."
"Silk? But look at that state..."
Guards from a security escort group whispered as they passed.
Jung Yeonshin had heard that merchant caravans and escort groups sometimes turned into bandits.
He kept his hand near his sword, walking silently.
'This is exhausting.'
But he couldn't risk taking deserted mountain paths.
As a newcomer to the martial world, his lack of experience could lead him astray.
Still, vigilance alone wasn't enough.
Wolves coveting wealth and clothing were everywhere.
In this world where robbery and murder were common, he eventually encountered wandering swordsmen and had to fight them.
Those rogues paid the price for underestimating the young swordsman, with their necks.
Compared to the warriors of the Thirteen Heavens, they were so weak it felt absurd.
'What gave them the confidence to attack?'
Despite their martial arts, most wanderers he faced lacked even basic internal energy training.
Learning was a privilege in this world.
From Xinye to Yangyang.
To high-level masters who could traverse the sky with light-body techniques, it was a short distance.
But with limited skill in light-body techniques, Jung Yeonshin had to endure the hardships and bloody battles of the martial world.
Among the fights, none could block his swift sword techniques.
As he cut through the rogues with his blade, the Jung family's martial arts naturally blended into his movements.
It was different from solitary training.
Using his techniques in combat, his body began to change again.
His muscles adapted to explosive movements, and his flexibility improved further.
Swift sword, swift sword, and more swift sword.
His already fast techniques became so quick even his own eyes couldn't follow them.
With his body evolving as the foundation of martial arts, his internal energy also grew more effective.
'They called it divine power.'
Thanks to his lifelong training in the Jung family's techniques, his transformation was visible even to the naked eye.
A week passed.
He endured his first nights sleeping rough, on hard ground, and braving the cold night air.
"Hoo."
With a sigh, the boy entered an inn and unpacked his bag. He had arrived in Yangyang.
Since the founding of Desolate Fortress, Yangyang had flourished.
Tens of thousands of people came and went daily, and thousands of goods circulated.
It was one of the most prosperous cities in the central plains in terms of trade and culture.
"Now more than ever! That rascal is rolling in money! They can't even keep up with the demand for alcohol!"
Jung Yeonshin, having ordered food, listened closely to merchants conversing nearby.
"With ambitious people flooding in from across the central plains, they say martial artists throw silver around like it's nothing."
"Nowadays, the taverns never close! Martial artists who came for the entrance exams are drowning in booze!"
"Desolate Fortress really is something."
"Of course! It revived Yangyang and is feeding it till it bursts!"
"Your metaphors are wild! Hahaha!"
Jung Yeonshin silently agreed with the last comment.
The soaring prices, starting with his lodging fee, made him realize he'd run out of money within a month.
Even though he'd secretly brought much from the Sword Sect's stores, it wasn't enough.
It was then.
"Are you here to take the entrance exam for Desolate Fortress as well, junior brother?"
A young man sat across from him with a friendly smile.
The sword at his waist was evidently no ordinary blade, even at a glance. Most striking, however, was the blue headband tied around his head.
It was called a Hero's Mark.
These days, it wasn't worn unless one wanted to show off, and his even had a dragon embroidered in gold thread.
"And you, senior brother?"
"Ah! I forgot to introduce myself. I was just curious to see a challenger younger than myself."
The young man continued with a cheerful expression.
"My name is Heon Wonchang. I came from faraway Shanxi."
"I'm Jung Yeonshin from Xinye."
"Xinye? Where is that?"
"It's a county in Nanyang, Hebei."
"You've come from nearby! Must have been an easy journey. I, on the other hand, crossed swords with Green Forest bandits and swam races with the pirates of Water Fortress! Those water bandits had terrifying aquatic skills!"
"Well... I suppose mine was easier."
Jung Yeonshin gave a vague answer.
"Anyway, it seems we're comrades preparing for Desolate Fortress's entrance exam."
"What do you want?"
"I'm here to make acquaintances! We can also exchange information. It's rare for someone to pass the exam on the first try. Maybe one in a thousand, and those are usually elite heirs of prestigious martial clans. Most people pass after taking the exam two, three, even ten times."
"There's an exam?"
At this, Heon Wonchang's eyes widened, as if asking whether he was serious. His exaggerated expression suited him well.
"It's called the Desolate Fortress Exam! Desolate Fortress isn't like ordinary sects. Just as officials must pass civil or military service exams, Desolate Fortress requires an entrance exam."
"That explains why there are so many people here..."
"Of course! Whether you have connections or not, as soon as you enter, opportunities for learning and advancement open up. It's only natural that martial artists from across the world flock here. I'd say there are easily thousands practicing their martial arts to pass this exam."
Desolate Fortress.
"If you want to shake the world with a single blade, go to Desolate Fortress. Even officials will bow to you."
It was a common saying. Who wouldn't feel their heart race at the thought?
It was a cradle of martial excellence.
The imperial family, ruling all of the Central Plains, had directly intervened to suppress martial sects. They had gathered rare elixirs and advanced techniques from across the Nine Provinces.
"Some people still claim traditional sects are superior. They don't know what they're talking about. If those minor sects were stronger than Desolate Fortress, they'd have founded an empire and crowned themselves emperors. How else could the Great Ming Empire have endured? Those so-called martial sects, collecting taxes and donations like kings in their little territories."
"I see."
Jung Yeonshin responded indifferently, suspecting the man harbored resentment toward larger sects.
"Anyway, coming for the Desolate Fortress Exam is an excellent decision... that is, if you can pass."
Suddenly, his expression turned gloomy.
Jung Yeonshin found this Heon Wonchang person rather fascinating.
He had never met such an excitable chatterbox before.
"If you pass, you'll immediately be recognized as an outstanding rising star among the younger generation! At your age, anyone from Desolate Fortress would undoubtedly be considered a top-tier martial artist."
Heon Wonchang's tone, cheerful until now, weakened again.
"...But the walls of Desolate Fortress are as daunting as its prestige."
"Yes, I see."
Just as Jung Yeonshin was beginning to tire of the conversation, the food arrived.
Dishes like Kung Pao Chicken and stir-fried vegetables, chicken, and greens filled the table.
After days of poor meals, even the aroma was comforting.
Watching him eat, Heon Wonchang spoke with a conflicted expression.
"So, how about we take the exam together tomorrow?"
"Sure."
Jung Yeonshin agreed without much thought.
In truth, he was relieved to learn he could enter through an exam.
He had no intention of relying on relatives he had never seen and didn't even know what they looked like.
Even if his life was on the line, he wouldn't let himself fall into desperation. It was a mix of determination and youthful pride.
The next day.
"You're here."
Standing before Desolate Fortress, Jung Yeonshin was no longer the third son of the Jung Manor.
He was a swordsman who had survived a grueling week, harsh for any wealthy child.
Now, he was a martial artist.
'Incredible.'
Looking up at the front gate, he was in awe. He had never imagined such a scale.
The towering walls stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the clear blue sky, radiating grandeur.
"It's impregnable."
Beside him, Heon Wonchang muttered in awe. Jung Yeonshin silently agreed.
The double-layered walls soared high, appearing impenetrable.
They encircled a vast area, with moats dug around them, forming a broad belt of water.
The massive open gates exuded confidence, fitting for a place claiming martial supremacy.
Jung Yeonshin stepped forward slowly.
Ahead, there was a training ground surrounded by fences.
It was likely the first test site Heon Wonchang had mentioned.
"Let's go."
"Indeed."
The two approached the registration desk at the front.
After stating their names, the clerk, dressed in scholar's robes, wrote them down and asked again.
"Jung Yeonshin, from Xinye, Nanyang, Hebei, correct?"
"Yes."
"Proceed to the training ground."
He received a round token from the stacks piled high on the desk.
The number '13' was engraved on it.
'Lively place.'
Not only were there examiners and candidates, but spectators, merchants, and gamblers also crowded the area.
Desolate Fortress didn't seem to mind, as if inviting them to watch and enjoy.
"This way."
Passing through the fence with Heon Wonchang, a martial artist supervising the exam called out to them.
His tidy martial robes and tightly restrained aura rivaled the masters of the Thirteen Heavens.
The examiner spoke.
"The first test is the Swift Sword Technique."
"Excuse me?"