"...Desolate Fortress?"
The one who broke the silence and murmured was the nobleman who had previously rebuked the wanderer.
His demeanor, once relaxed while conversing with the two women seated with him, had changed. There was now a trace of surprise mixed with intrigue.
The wanderer's eyes darted up and down.
"Are you truly a warrior of Desolate Fortress?"
Jung Yeonshin did not answer.
"You've insulted my sect. Don't think my patience will last long."
Heon Wonchang spoke with a rare seriousness. The moment his sword was drawn, murderous intent would follow.
Having witnessed Heon Wonchang fight before, Jung Yeonshin did not wish to waste time.
Without speaking, he spun the lone chopstick between his index and middle fingers. The wanderer's expression shifted drastically.
"I-I had no intention of insulting Desolate Fortress. I was merely..."
"I'm not interested in your excuses. You said the Azure-Eye Demonic Swordsman lost his sight. Tell me about that."
Jung Yeonshin, his hand resting on the sword guard, gazed calmly.
"It was Two Ghosts! I heard the Blood Flame Cult was behind them! Several Blood Cult Swords and one apostle of the Blood Flame Cult clashed with Radiant Demon Squad while he was protecting a commoner family, and... he fell in the process..."
"..."
It struck Jung Yeonshin that Radiant Demon Squad had been unusually gentle for someone of his renown.
"After the Tyrant Sword Tribe, now the Blood Flame Cult."
Heon Wonchang muttered, looking exasperated. Jung Yeonshin slowly nodded.
Among the Thirteen Heavens, they had yet to even glimpse eleven of them, and yet these two continued to intertwine repeatedly.
It seemed inevitable, given that Henan and Shaanxi were the regions where those factions were most active.
"You risked your neck for idle talk."
Jung Yeonshin spoke. Perhaps it was the force in his voice, but the wanderer froze in place.
From the Praying Mantis Sect to the Tyrant Sword Tribe, they had endured successive blood-soaked battles.
It was only natural that Jung Yeonshin's temperament had begun to shift. He was steadily becoming a warrior of the martial world.
"I—I apologize!"
The man prostrated himself. His posture suggested he now regarded Jung Yeonshin as a reaper.
It seemed the name Desolate Fortress and Jung Yeonshin's display of skill had led to this reaction.
"For the first time, it feels like a waste to draw the Desolate Sword."
Contrary to Heon Wonchang's remark, Jung Yeonshin felt as if he were looking into a mirror.
Casting away pride to protect one's life—the man's desperate actions didn't feel entirely foreign.
The wanderer's display reminded him of himself.
The negotiations with Radiant Demon Squad, the shadow cast by Desolate Fortress's lord—such burdens were his to bear.
"Finish your meal. And pay the innkeeper for the table."
He spoke almost absentmindedly, wondering if he, too, hoped for such mercy from fate.
"With such power at his age, one might expect him to be arrogant..."
"Indeed, a master of a prestigious sect possesses elegance."
Jung Yeonshin's demeanor was received as the magnanimity of a true master.
Perhaps it was the effortless display of martial skill with nothing but a chopstick that left such an impression.
Not only the other wanderers but even the aristocratic-looking men and women expressed admiration for his composure.
The wanderer called over the innkeeper and paid for the broken table before leaving, though it was clear he wanted to flee rather than remain.
The nobleman rose from his seat and approached Jung Yeonshin.
"By any chance, is your title 'Lightning Genius'?"
Jung Yeonshin nodded, and the nobleman's face lit up with curiosity.
"To meet someone destined to shine as the light of Desolate Fortress, following in the footsteps of the White Qilin Namgoong Hwashin—what an honor. I am Jin Yul of the Jin Family in Shaanxi."
"Desolate Fortress's Radiant Demon Squad, Jung Yeonshin."
Jin Yul's companions, including Heon Wonchang, exchanged greetings. The women nearby were said to be daughters of military officials.
The ones who had originally been seated with Jin Yul awkwardly left after he discreetly handed them coins.
"I have long admired the warriors of Desolate Fortress. Being from a smaller family, we inevitably remain close to the lives of commoners rather than the martial world. But witnessing Desolate Fortress's swordplay always fills me with awe."
He spoke with a smile.
"There's a rumor about a prodigious warrior among the younger generation of Desolate Fortress. It seems that must be you, active in Shaanxi."
"You've got quite the keen ear."
Jung Yeonshin, slightly embarrassed, didn't respond directly, instead offering a polite nod. Heon Wonchang, however, laughed and praised Jin Yul, clearly pleased.
"If I'm not mistaken, you're heading to Lantian? May I request to join you? I know this is sudden, but I'd like to build a connection with the masters of Desolate Fortress."
"What do you think, Jung?"
Heon Wonchang refrained from agreeing outright.
Despite treating Jung Yeonshin like a younger brother, he never overstepped boundaries.
The blue robe, acknowledged by Chung Myung and Baek Miryeo, was the highest rank among all the white-clad warriors.
Jung Yeonshin finally spoke.
"You seem to know our destination. Do you know the details?"
"After the clash between the Tyrant Sword Tribe and Zhongnan Sect, the Radiant Demon Squad and the Mount Hua Sect became the focus of the martial world in Xian. Even minor families like ours couldn't help but hear about it."
Jin Yul answered without losing his smile. Jung Yeonshin observed him briefly before nodding.
* * *
Xian was one of the most prominent cities in the Central Plains.
To its east lay the county of Lantian. Having set out from an inn near Zhongnan Mountain, they had a long journey ahead.
During the ride, Jin Yul and Heon Wonchang became quite friendly.
"I shouted then—Desolate Fortress's Lightning Genius, Jung Yeonshin, has slain the elder of the Tyrant Sword Tribe! ...I swear my roar rivaled the Lion's Roar of Shaolin. Every martial artist of the Zhongnan Sect and Tyrant Sword Tribe turned their heads at once. You should have seen it."
"How could I doubt the words of a Desolate Fortress warrior?"
Both were naturally sociable, quickly dropping formalities and chatting comfortably.
Jin Yul, despite his small-family origins, seemed well-versed and adept at flattery.
He carried an aristocratic grace that naturally drew people in.
Even Heon Wonchang, grinning from ear to ear, was completely at ease conversing with him.
"Did you really cut down the Blood Fiend Demon Sword?"
One of the military officials' daughters riding alongside asked, her tanned face full of curiosity.
Jung Yeonshin shook his head.
"It was a team effort. Senior Cloud Sword Dragon, Natural Spirit Fist, Senior Cliff Sword, and Heon assisted greatly. The elders of the Thirteen Heavens are on another level."
"I did block one strike! Though the finishing blow was Jung's dazzling sword!"
Heon Wonchang laughed heartily, clearly delighted by the praise.
"Let's rest for a while."
Jin Yul suggested as the sun rose high.
It was time for a meal, and there was a stream nearby where they could water the horses.
Jung Yeonshin nodded.
Heon Wonchang volunteered to tend to the horses. Gathering the reins one by one, he stood back as Jung Yeonshin approached the stream.
Bending down, Jung filled a gourd bottle with water. Jin Yul, seated nearby to his left, glanced at him and spoke.
"Do you, by any chance, use your left hand, Master Jung?"
"I use my right hand for sword techniques. I've learned some shallow forms of left-handed martial arts, though."
"I see. Then your left side must be your weak point."
His tone was as casual as if they were talking about everyday matters. The meaning only dawned on Jung Yeonshin a moment later.
Swoosh.
A dagger shot out at astonishing speed, yet no sound accompanied its movement.
Jin Yul's ambush was exceptionally stealthy, as if the blade itself embodied swift precision.
From within, the core energy of Jung's True Family Art surged. The internal force flowing through his entire network of veins felt heavier than before.
Jung Yeonshin had been prepared since the moment he allowed Jin Yul to join them.
Jin Yul was far too extraordinary for someone from a minor family.
Even though they had only met at an inn after descending Zhongnan Mountain, he seemed as if he had been waiting for this moment.
'As if it had all been planned.'
At that instant, Jung activated the Infinite Blossom Fist Strike technique with his left arm. A chilling sword light erupted diagonally.
The trajectory flashed like lightning, slicing through Jin Yul's neck in a heartbeat.
Thud!
"I knew this would happen."
Heon Wonchang stood over the corpse, its upper body collapsed into the water.
He used the hem of Jin Yul's clothes to clean his Desolate Sword.
Despite standing calmly as if he hadn't just killed someone, Jung Yeonshin silently observed him.
"I was about to handle it."
"My instincts aren't inferior to yours, Master Jung ."
Grinning, Heon Wonchang kicked Jin Yul's head.
As the body fell into the stream, an ink-like substance darkened the clear water.
Scarlet-red hair began to emerge from the head.
After a brief glance, Jung Yeonshin spoke.
"A Blood Flame Cult assassin, it seems."
"You're a marked target now. It looks like they've taken notice of your deeds and reputation. Congratulations—you're officially an enemy of the Blood Flame Cult. That means you've truly established yourself in the martial world."
"What about the others? The daughters of the military officials?"
"They're probably crossing the River of Three Crossings by now."
Heon Wonchang spat, dismissing them as no different.
It seemed the ambush had been set while Jung Yeonshin briefly stepped aside to fetch water.
So this is how grudges form in the martial world, he thought. A land of swords and blades.
Mountain of Blades and Forest of Swords .
For the first time, Jung Yeonshin truly felt that he had stepped into the real martial world.
His reaction, however, was as composed as Jin Yul's tone had been before his assassination attempt.
"We'll arrive in half a day."
"Let's hurry."
* * *
"Yeonshin, I heard you've achieved something unbelievable."
Chung Myung smiled. A strip of cloth wrapped around his head covered his left eye.
Even his ragged appearance couldn't hide his sharp nose and features.
He was a senior that Jung Yeonshin felt both grateful to and faintly resentful of.
Jung had thought only he and Heon Wonchang could trouble the Radiant Demon Squad with worry.
Yet Chung Myung merely grinned.
"To have slain an elder of the Thirteen Heavens—I haven't even done that yet."
"It was reckless. It's a relief nothing went wrong."
Baek Miryeo, placing her icy hands on Jung's shoulders, shot him a piercing gaze.
Heon Wonchang, standing nearby, looked as if he was silently asking why he wasn't getting the same attention.
The four sat in the guest room where they first met Mount Hua Sect members.
"What happened here? It seems even your leader isn't present."
Jung Yeonshin's question prompted Baek Miryeo to speak, brushing her sideburns back.
Her fingers seemed paler than usual, likely from exerting martial techniques to the extreme.
"Our leader went after them with senior swordsmen from the Mount Hua Sect. The Blood Flame Cult revealed themselves as the force behind this. The situation's evolving. We don't know what tricks they'll pull with Plum Blossom Pill, but we may soon receive reinforcements from our base."
"What about Chung Myung's eye?"
"Twin Demons used concealed weapons. He was dealing with three Blood Cult Swords at the time. This idiot could have dodged it easily, but there were civilians behind him. He had no choice but to deflect it."
"What kind of concealed weapon could be that deadly...?"
"A projectile launcher from Sichuan's Tang Clan. It's called Flying Strike Bomb. Its power is terrifying."
Baek Miryeo explained in a calm yet sharp tone.
Chung Myung, ever oblivious, chuckled and interrupted.
"I did manage to cut off the guy's left wrist, though. We should raid Tang Clan someday. Rumor has it they secretly make firebombs too. Maybe that should be our next mission?"
And then—
Boom!
"You won't live to see another mission."
An explosion erupted, faster than the voice that followed.
Before it fully registered, Chung Myung had already grabbed Jung Yeonshin and Heon Wonchang and thrown them down.
"The leader isn't doing his job."
Crash! Crash!
Blinding flashes poured through the windows, like torrents of rain.
They were nearly impaled. The Ming Empire's lifestyle favored chairs over floor mats—luckily.
Baek Miryeo, already crouched like a beast poised to strike, turned wide eyes toward Jung Yeonshin, who leaped through the window.
Chung Myung's arm had been cast aside as Jung sprinted.
His vision narrowed as he locked onto a short, middle-aged man.
'What? Wasn't the Plum Blossom Pill their target?'
Powerful presences surged into the inn—more than one or two.
Baek Miryeo's voice echoed in Jung's ears, promising to handle the Blood Flame Cult.
"Blue robe over white. So you're the Lightning Genius."
The man smiled, his loose silk sleeves fluttering.
Murderous intent radiated as if killing the masters of Desolate Fortress was his life's purpose.
"Lightning Genius? That title is too grand for a brat like you."
Recognitions began to accumulate.
So this is how fame builds in the martial world, Jung thought.
"Are you the Twin Demon?"
The man approached boldly, as if he didn't understand the concept of distance in combat. He didn't wait for an answer.
As he walked, he unsheathed his sword, and waves of cloudy light rippled from the blade.