"Yeah. I can feel the wind well."
The man laughed. A blue scarf, even bluer eyes.
"Even a ten-year-old's Tri-Sword Technique has sword wind. You can tell how and with what feeling they swing the sword. Here in Radiant Demon Squad, there's a guy named White Miryo whose sword is full of flair. You should learn from him. He's very skilled."
"I'll give it a try."
Jung Yeonshin didn't ask any more questions.
As he circulated his true energy, the hem of his clothes began to flutter slightly.
Amidst the curious gazes of the Radiant Demon Squad martial artists, Jung's circulating internal energy stirred visibly across his entire body.
"My name is Chung Myung. I was born and raised here in Xiangyang."
"I'm Jung Yeonshin, from Xinye."
"I see. So there's a place like that too."
Chung Myung smiled lightly. His energy was as clear as his name. Jung Yeonshin reached for the sword he had received from Desolate Fortress.
Desolate Fortress Sword (入荒劍). It was a far superior blade compared to the iron sword he had originally used, one issued by his family. The sound of the sword's ring was so clear and loud that Heon Wonchang from the next room burst in to check.
'Rumor has it that there's a blacksmith forge run by the short Iron Tribe here.'
If the rumors were true, it would be no wonder the issued swords were of such high quality.
Unlike the famous and beautiful Noble Tribe, little was known about the Iron Tribe except that their smithing techniques were unmatched.
"I'm ready."
"Good. I heard your swift sword is impressive. Show me."
"Alright."
The familiar trembling he'd grown used to over the past week surged up from his hand gripping the sword handle.
Before Chung Myung drew his sword, Jung Yeonshin noticed the calluses on both of his hands, hardened like gauntlets.
The taut muscles peeking out from his sleeves and his upright posture were proof of formidable martial skill.
Gone was the casual demeanor, his piercing gaze now struck like a spear.
'No need to overthink it. This is just a test of skills.'
Clearing his mind, Jung Yeonshin focused only on Chung Myung's breathing in his sensory field. An inhale, and then a slow exhale.
'Now.'
The energy that was supposed to flow to his left foot shifted to the right instead, overlapping. A loud thud rang out.
With a single leap using his right foot and Supreme Lightness Technique, Chung Myung's upper body seemed to close in.
Breaking through the ground beneath him, Jung Yeonshin drew the Desolate Fortress Sword.
The distance of five paces was cut down in an instant by a sweeping strike.
Exploding his compressed muscles and true energy, he connected the swift sword stance with another slash.
The sound of navigating through a storm rang like a drum in his ears, and his abdomen tingled.
He had changed again since gaining the sword. His senses sharpened completely.
Boom!
He collided with a force too powerful to handle. He saw Chung Myung's opening at the flank and lunged, but suddenly his vision blurred white.
A tremendous shock traveled up from his palm to his elbow as his body was sent flying.
He wasn't sure when he had managed to lift his sword.
'Still, it's not as bad as I thought...'
Just before he was flung away, he concentrated his energy into the Liangqui, Xuehai, and Qiangguan acupoints on his right knee.
As his gastrocnemius muscles twitched like those of a predator, his right foot slammed into the ground of the training hall.
At the same time, he exploded his energy from the yongquan point on his heel.
Crash! Whoosh!
'I can manage this.'
Pivoting on his right foot, his body spun half a turn. He had caught Chung Myung's blind spot.
At the end of the Desolate Fortress Sword's arc that traced a semicircle, Chung Myung's trapezius muscle behind his neck came into view.
A sound like slicing through a curtain filled the air, but suddenly Chung Myung's entire body seemed to pulsate.
His form blurred momentarily, then snapped back, causing Jung Yeonshin's vision to white out again.
Chung Myung's sword closed the distance.
Swish!
'Silk-Spinning Force , he's rotating properly.'
It wasn't something he saw, he felt it.
The hum of his sword vibrated, detecting the flow of air instead.
Chung Myung's earlier comment about feeling the wind brought sudden inspiration, pushing Jung Yeonshin's sensory swordsmanship closer to unity.
Clang!
The ringing sound echoed as the energy-filled impact scattered outward, tearing parts of his clothes.
His arm flung upwards from the clash of tremendous force.
It was a wonder he hadn't dropped his sword.
Huff!
He let his body drop backward like falling flat. It was the Iron Bridge Technique.
Thanks to his planted right foot, the execution was smooth.
The sharp blade barely grazed the tip of his nose.
He shivered at the sight of his hair strands cut mid-fall.
Pulling up his embedded foot, Jung Yeonshin kicked out.
Expecting the opponent to dodge, he flipped midair and landed.
Immediately, he gripped his sword tightly and fixed his clear gaze on Chung Myung.
His kick had knocked something loose. It was Chung Myung's scarf.
'As expected, he's of the Noble Tribe.'
Sharp, pointed ears and golden hair, features no human could possess.
Having encountered Nobles frequently lately, Jung Yeonshin wasn't surprised. He adjusted his grip.
'Next, apply Supreme Lightness to the Desolate Fortress Sword… huh?'
Completely absorbed, he suddenly noticed the dead silence around him.
Even the formidable Chung Myung looked stunned as he stared at him.
At some point, everyone in the hall had turned their shocked gazes toward Jung Yeonshin.
Chung Myung's identity clearly wasn't a secret.
"... …"
Though unsure why, Jung Yeonshin sensed it wasn't the right atmosphere to continue sparring.
Carefully sheathing his sword as if to calm the mood, he asked out of curiosity,
"How was I? You said you were testing my talent."
"... …"
"I know you held back a few moves. Be honest with me."
"Uh…"
Even Chung Myung, who had once faced Plum Blossom Swordmen and sparred with Namgoong's strongest swordsman, seemed to have forgotten how to speak.
He simply stared.
It was only after a while that Ma Jin, his scar twisting, spoke up.
"You. How old did you say you were?"
"Fifteen. But does that matter? Only one's current skill matters, not age."
Jung Yeonshin frowned as he answered. What use was age when survival was at stake?
But no one seemed to hear the latter part of his words.
Even Chung Myung suddenly threw down his sword, and the martial artists of Radiant Demon Squad began murmuring among themselves.
It was unbelievable carelessness.
"That's a monster."
"No. That's heaven's mistake."
"I've been to the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, but nothing like this. Even born with sensory talent, this isn't possible."
"I was the genius in my city…"
"To hell with 'unparalleled talent'."
Ma Jin didn't bother silencing them and simply gestured toward Heon Wonchang.
"Next. Heon Wonchang, from Shanxi."
"M-me? Right now?"
"Step forward. I'll watch you."
No one in the Radiant Demon Squad paid much attention to Heon Wonchang's sparring.
Only Jung Yeonshin, who was in the same group, watched closely to see if there was anything worth learning.
* * *
"Radiant Demon Arts doesn't discriminate against any weapon."
Ma Jin, who had just returned from a mission a few days ago, immediately began teaching.
When performing missions across the vast lands of Zhongnan, being away for months was common. After returning, at least a month of rest was guaranteed.
Jung Yeonshin began learning the Desolate Fortress Radiant Demon Arts along with Heon Wonchang.
For him, it was the first time properly learning an established martial art.
"Swords, sabers, spears, fists, palms, hands, feet, axes, staffs, whips—Radiant Demon Arts doesn't exclude anything. That is, if you master it properly."
"How is that possible? Then wouldn't sword practitioners have no need to focus on swords?"
Heon Wonchang, whose eyes were swollen and bruised, asked.
When it came to teaching, Ma Jin was as gentle and thorough as the world's most understanding mentor, answering every question patiently.
"It's a different approach. Radiant Demon Arts is about using the body. It's the study of what can be done with human hands and feet. Except for bows, it covers everything from close combat to mid-range spear fighting."
Then he added,
"That's why it's shallow. Heon Wonchang, as you said, it can't compare in depth with schools that dedicate themselves solely to swords. But we're not like Wudang Sect priests, spinning swords alone in pursuit of transcendence with their Pine-Patterned Ancient Swords."
'So that's how one could describe Wudang's Taiji Sword.'
Jung Yeonshin, who had always wanted to see that style in action, paid close attention.
"Our martial art in Desolate Fortress is always about real battles. Even solo missions assume chaos. Battles are collections of variables! If your stance collapses due to a misstep, will you still cling to your sword? With Radiant Demon Arts, you won't hesitate to discard your weapon in such a moment. The range of choices is what often keeps us alive."
Ma Jin glanced at Jung Yeonshin for a moment,
Perhaps recalling the kick that had sent Chung Myung's scarf flying.
In contrast, Jung Yeonshin thought of Chung Myung, who had casually tossed his sword aside after their sparring match.
"Oh… I see."
Before he knew it, even Desolate Fortress's martial overseer was impressed.
Ma Jin's eyes gleamed as he glanced at him seated next to Jung Yeonshin.
"But Radiant Demon Arts demands innate adaptability and insight.
If you lack these, you'll need to practice until it's ingrained into your body. Don't worry about that, though."
He lifted the scar beneath his mouth in a smile and continued,
"That's what I and the Radiant Demon Squad are here for. The fact that you passed the Desolate Fortress Trials already proves your potential. If you follow well, you'll join us on the next mission."
And so began Heon Wonchang's ordeal.
* * *
"Ugh…"
The next day, something resembling a corpse stood in the Radiant Demon Squad training ground.
Apparently, Ma Jin hadn't been exaggerating about ingraining techniques into the body. He had explained the principles of Radiant Demon Arts, then demonstrated them through sparring as realistic as any battle, with Heon Wonchang's body as the target.
"My Radiant Demon Arts barehand strikes are precise. I know you can still move. The fact that you're not sprawled out deserves praise. Replay what happened and turn it into progress."
Ma Jin spoke indifferently to Heon Wonchang before turning to Jung Yeonshin.
Compared to Heon Wonchang, Jung Yeonshin looked completely unscathed.
With the pitch-black Desolate Fortress Sword hanging at his waist and the white martial uniform fluttering in the breeze,
He already carried the aura of a Desolate Fortress warrior, despite his youthful face.
"You're finished, then. Did you grasp the crux of the technique?"
"Seamless adaptability."
"…Correct. The body always has room to move, no matter the situation. The flow of forms must continue without interruption, effortlessly. That's the essence of Radiant Demon Arts' ultimate form. Insight, creativity, and adaptability. Once you fully understand the principles, you must now grasp the deeper intent behind the forms."
"The deeper intent of the forms?"
"This isn't something you can understand by mere explanation."
Ma Jin stepped in front of a brick tower on the training ground.
It was rare for Desolate Fortress to use wood for construction, out of consideration for their Noble Tribe lord.
With the fortress made entirely of stone, setting up wooden training dummies was unthinkable.
"Watch."
Ma Jin's body briefly radiated powerful energy before immediately relaxing, as if to emphasize that he was completely at ease.
Then he struck the brick tower with a fist hardened by countless calluses.
Thud!
It was impossible to tell how much he had trained his external body to produce such a blunt sound so effortlessly.
The brick tower collapsed in a cascade of rubble.
"The optimal moment and the best strike—forms are the trajectories that lead to those. Perfect forms produce perfect strikes. It's a matter of positioning, but what I'm teaching is something more. Positioning reacts to an opponent's attack. But your forms begin in the realm of instinct. Your attacks don't need to be seen, they simply happen."
Without even brushing off his hands, Ma Jin turned to Jung Yeonshin, who was staring at the pile of rubble.
Jung Yeonshin thought to himself,
'The servants are going to have a hard time with this.'
He briefly wondered about the servants' pay before shaking off the thought.
'It's about timing and using the body effectively.'
It meant identifying the moment and point to unleash force.
In that instant, Jung Yeonshin grasped the principle, his hands loosening as inspiration struck like lightning in his mind.
"This is the realm of practice. You can't master it after seeing it just once. The more you train, the more your instincts find the optimal forms. This will be a lifelong task."
"Is that so…?"
Jung Yeonshin thought otherwise.
The inspiration that had erupted in his mind had already gone a step further, lightning-like insights flashing through his thoughts.
'I could do this differently, even right now…'
A sky-colored glimmer flickered in his eyes, and his hand began to rise slightly.