After the unconscious opponent was dragged away, the real problem arose when it was time to start the second and final match.
'There are many monsters in the world.'
Jung Yeonshin thought. It felt like facing a martial artist who might one day become an absolute master like the Sword Sovereign.
A man dressed entirely in white approached from across the field.
His slender jawline was as refined as the blade of a treasured sword, and his pitch-black eyes, sharp with determination, exuded the aura of a swordsman.
His spotless, pale skin, as flawless as his white attire, combined with his high nose, radiated elegance.
Truly a peerless beauty. He looked to be around twenty years old.
'White Qilin, Namgoong Hwashin (南宮華晨).'
There was no need to ask. No one else here could possibly match that description.
Even the masters of Desolate Fortress, seated in a wide circle around the arena, showed interest.
"I wonder who'll take him in. The major sects will surely compete over him."
"He seems stronger than us. As expected of the Namgoong Clan."
"Will we witness the Boundless Heaven Technique (蒼穹無涯劍) today?"
They were already treating his acceptance as a foregone conclusion. Some of the observers waiting in the flower garden across from them even looked at Jung Yeonshin with pity.
'He looks about five years older than me. Someday, I don't think he'll be an insurmountable peak.'
Jung Yeonshin could feel the energy radiating from Namgoong Hwashin.
The flow of his true energy was remarkably refined.
It had likely been several years since he mastered the Great Circulatory Technique, spreading true energy through his entire body and meridians, and he seemed to have consumed powerful elixirs as well, resulting in formidable strength.
The admiration from the masters of Desolate Fortress was endless.
"It's never easy for a rumor to cross several provinces."
"He's certainly living up to his reputation."
Jung Yeonshin acknowledged it, too.
'I only have the advantage in physique. Everything else is still out of reach.'
Namgoong Hwashin approached within five steps.
His polite martial salute exuded the dignity of a prestigious family.
"I am Namgoong Hwashin of the Namgoong Clan. My primary martial arts are the Boundless Heaven Technique and the Infinite Steps (無限步). I look forward to this match."
"I trained in Jung Clan Movement Art at the Jung Manor in Hanem."
Jung Yeonshin clasped his hands together and responded respectfully.
Namgoong Hwashin returned the bow with a slight bend of his waist before drawing his sword.
With a clear ring, the blade's brilliance stretched out like ripples in the crisp morning air.
It was dazzling.
The ability to unsheathe and sheath a sword was often used to gauge a swordsman's skill, and Namgoong Hwashin's silvery draw, slicing diagonally through the air, was nothing short of beautiful.
Jung Yeonshin did not draw his sword.
The essence of the sword technique he had recently developed was unpredictability.
Its core lay in delivering a strike from an unanticipated rhythm.
If it worked well, it could exploit a gap in even this prodigious talent.
He stood still and began circulating his Qi.
"Begin."
The examiner, who had been standing among the martial artists of Desolate Fortress, gave the signal.
At that moment—
Clang—!
Jung Yeonshin's sword was already snapped in half, one fragment flying through the air.
Holding the broken half, he slowly lowered his arm.
A commotion flared up like wildfire from both flower gardens.
"What just happened······?"
"What was that?"
"Did the boy lose?"
"That was an incredibly fast strike from White Qilin!"
While the hopefuls expressed confusion or firm conclusions—
"······."
The masters of Desolate Fortress fell into a silence so heavy it seemed unnatural.
Though they had earlier appeared somewhat lax for warriors reputed as the best in the martial world, at this moment, their entire demeanor radiated solemnity.
Not one of them took their eyes off Jung Yeonshin. They stared at him alone.
Lowering his sword, Namgoong Hwashin spoke.
"I lost."
A declaration of defeat. The martial artists of Desolate Fortress, as if it were the most natural outcome, began speaking one by one.
"Jung Yeonshin, was it? That's a terrifyingly fast strike."
"I heard Namgoong Hwashin just turned twenty."
"The boy looks at least five years younger."
"There was a hidden Martial artist in Henan. His youth is even more frightening."
"He doesn't seem to have learned how to infuse True energy into his sword yet. Should I teach him?"
Everyone's attention turned to the martial artist who made the last remark.
"The Extermination Unit (滅纖隊). Don't act recklessly. Every faction will covet someone like him."
"Don't order me around. Better he joins Myeolseom than rot away in your Devil's Wings (魔光翼)."
"Enough."
The examiner interrupted.
Seeing the hall quiet down, Jung Yeonshin was surprised.
He had assumed that menial tasks were left to the lowest-ranked members, but that wasn't the case.
Were responsibilities given to higher ranks? He began to understand the nature of Desolate Fortress.
"Namgoong Hwashin, prepare for your next match. And you, Jung Yeonshin, was it?"
"Yes."
"There's another flower garden to the north. Wait there."
"Understood."
Jung Yeonshin turned to Namgoong Hwashin and offered a martial salute.
"I hope we can spar again next time."
"······I should be the one saying that. I'll look forward to it."
Namgoong Hwashin smiled.
His expression was rather peculiar, there was no trace of dark emotions, only interest and amusement lingering at the corners of his lips.
'He's different from those so-called elder brothers.'
The difference in character compared to the Jung siblings was striking.
The moment the duel began, Jung Yeonshin had struck Namgoong Hwashin's sword with an extreme quick-draw technique.
He had realized there was no chance of victory in a prolonged match.
However, Namgoong Hwashin seemed intent on giving his all, even against a boy, as his sword had already been infused with True energy.
That was how Jung Yeonshin's sword broke.
It was a fatal mistake to blindly rely on quick strikes, yet Namgoong Hwashin had admitted defeat instead.
Perhaps he thought he had lost because his reaction had been too slow.
'Life at Desolate Fortress will be far better than at Jung Manor.'
Gathering the broken pieces of his sword, Jung Yeonshin began walking north, lost in thought.
* * *
A flower garden where those who passed the entrance test had gathered.
The gazes of those already present were filled with surprise.
Jung Yeonshin paid no attention to them, recalling his earlier strike.
The weight balance of his feet, the overlapping of True energy from the True Extreme Realm, and the explosive tension of his contracted muscles—he couldn't see a way to improve further for now.
The problem was the sword itself.
'Did he say Dvil'sWing? That martial artist was right.'
During the bloodshed at Jung Manor, he had never clashed swords directly.
The vagabonds he faced on the way from Xinye to Yangyang weren't skilled enough to make him worry about True energy.
Desolate Fortress was different.
He had now stepped into the heart of the martial world.
'The World Tree Fruit.'
He had to obtain it. Dying prematurely wasn't an option.
'Not learned how to imbue true energy into the sword?'
Of course not.
Jung Manor was nothing more than a third-rate sect posing as a martial clan in Xinye County.
He had never seen anyone in his family shy away from talking, so if someone had known such techniques, he would've heard about it.
'Now I know.'
It was enough to have heard that such a method existed. The moment he knew, he understood how.
True energy began to flow through the broken sword he gripped. That wasn't the end.
He also realized that true energy could move freely through the metal of the blade, and following this new sensation, his energy enveloped the sword.
Merely imbuing energy into the blade? No.
He went further, realizing he could become one with the sword by using true energy as a medium.
His consciousness, focused entirely on the sword, advanced naturally.
The sword was calling to him, reaching out with a higher sense of awareness.
Woong—
The sword vibrated, making a sound as if it were crying.
"Sword Resonance (劍鳴)!"
The martial artists in the garden jumped to their feet. Jung Yeonshin kept his eyes closed.
Even with the sudden commotion, he paid no mind, savoring the sensation of the sword crying in his grip.
'So this is Body-Sword Unification (身劍合一). It really does feel like I've become one with it.'
Using this state to execute sword techniques would create something entirely new. How powerful would the enhanced quick-draw strike be?
He was already gaining so much right after passing the Desolate Fortress test.
The World Tree Fruit was still far away, but for now, this achievement was more than satisfying.
'Desolate Fortress. It really is a wonderful place.'
When he opened his eyes, Namgoong Hwashin was standing there with a faint smile.
His hand rested lightly on the sword guard.
It seemed he had remained nearby to ensure no one interrupted Jung Yeonshin's moment of enlightenment. He had stood guard.
"Congratulations on your achievement."
Namgoong Hwashin gave him a slight nod. His manners were almost unnaturally impeccable.
"I didn't realize you were guarding me. Thank you. And…"
"…?"
"Congratulations on passing the Desolate Fortress test as well, Sir Namgoong."
For the first time, Namgoong Hwashin looked momentarily stunned before bursting into laughter.
Some of those watching envied their camaraderie, but Jung Yeonshin's attention had already shifted back to his sword.
After waiting for half an hour, Jung Yeonshin finally saw Heon Wonchang's face.
Despite retaking the test several times, he had also passed.
He humorously tapped the dragon pattern on his Hero Token against his forehead.
"I've already decided on my nickname. What do you think of Desolate Fortress Divine Hero (入荒神俠)?"
"A divine hero of Desolate Fortress? Can you even give yourself a nickname?"
"Why not? The martial world is full of shameless people who introduce themselves with self-proclaimed titles. If I call myself Desolate Fortress Divine Hero, then that's my nickname."
"Then wouldn't every swordsman in the world already be called Divine Sword (神劍) or Sword Saint (劍星)?"
Heon Wonchang pretended not to hear, making Jung Yeonshin chuckle.
'A nickname, huh.'
Names bestowed by the martial world to those who displayed exceptional skill or were involved in significant events.
For those not known for villainy, nicknames were both an identity and a great honor.
Like the Cliff Sword, Martial Spirit Fist, and White Qilin.
"It seems you already have one."
It was Namgoong Hwashin.
"Me? All I did was take the test."
"Lightning Genius(閃藝). If the martial artists of Desolate Fortress are calling you that, then it's already a proper nickname."
"Lightning Genius? It's probably just a mockery of my quick strikes, nothing more."
Namgoong Hwashin smiled brightly, revealing white teeth.
"Quick strikes? If you call it that, then what about me, who failed to keep up? Besides, nicknames often reflect a martial artist's potential. Congratulations."
"…Thank you."
Jung Yeonshin replied with slight reluctance.
Lightning Genius Jung Yeonshin. It was a name he could never have imagined back when he was tending horses at Jung Manor.
Heon Wonchang looked at him with envy.
"All gather!"
It was the examiner in the training hall.
"Once you pass one more test, you will officially become warriors of Desolate Fortress. To those who pass, remember this—learn, train, and carry out missions while living together in this fortress built to stand alone in the martial world. Maintain dignity befitting your rank as martial artists."
The twenty who had passed the second test remained silent.
Jung Yeonshin could guess why.
Passing the second test was a joy, but the final hurdle was an interview with the Lord of Desolate Fortress.
A living legend in the Great Ming Empire and often regarded as the greatest martial artist alive.
Even for Jung Yeonshin, meeting such a mythical figure face-to-face was no small matter.
Led by the examiner, they passed through the splendid structures, and no one spoke.
"…."
Even after entering the fortress's massive central hall, their silence persisted.
One by one, they were called up and returned looking dazed.
Although it was supposed to be an interview, the process was so brief it seemed they merely faced the fortress lord and left.
Finally, it was Jung Yeonshin's turn.
The stairs seemed to spiral endlessly upward.
'They said to keep climbing.'
After what felt like over a hundred steps, he reached the top.
A massive, antique door stood before him, and as he approached, it opened on its own.
The office was astonishing, filled entirely with trees, branches, and foliage.
Massive tree trunks twisted naturally to form desks, tables, and even a bed.
It was as if the entire space was a living tree. Sunlight poured in through a wide-open wall.
"I am Jung Yeonshin."
He spoke calmly, despite the overwhelming atmosphere.
A figure in light green robes that seemed dyed with leaf water sat leaning against the tree.
Her face, partially hidden by leafy branches, slowly lifted.
Their eyes met, and an indescribable feeling surged through him.
He couldn't explain it. Perhaps awe and admiration for the existence of such a person.
'The greatest martial artist, Lord of Desolate Fortress.'
Her sharp, blade-like ears and extraordinary beauty weren't the essence.
Her deep green eyes dominated everything. It felt like his soul was being drawn in.
It was as if the principles of the universe swirled within those eyes.
Even the Sword Sovereign, the absolute master of his memories, might not escape their pull.
Saaa—
A gentle breeze swept past, lifting her long, green hair and brushing against Jung Yeonshin's cheek.
The fortress lord tilted her head slightly.
"You… are that child's bloodline."
She spoke.