CHAPTER 83

The glow of internal energy in Jung Yeonshin's eyes quickly subsided. He exhaled a long breath through slightly parted lips.

A ripple of energy spread out from him and soon dissipated. It felt as though the increase in his inner strength had made him heavier.

"He's clearly an elite martial artist. If only he didn't have such a youthful face."

"His body alone makes it obvious. Even among the most gifted, such a well-tempered physique is rare."

Several seniors made jokes. Regardless of his age, he was starting to exude the aura of a seasoned martial artist.

"Thank you."

Jung Yeonshin raised his fist in a salute to those who had guarded him. They were the seniors who had protected his meditation and energy cultivation at the Grand Martial Hall.

He received the attention he never experienced at the Jung family manor. The sincerity of their care, which almost seemed excessive, was deeply precious to him.

"Not sure how strong you've become? That's understandable."

Ma Jin, who had been observing the boy closely, spoke.

"Such is the nature of increasing one's internal energy. It's not something you can fully grasp through introspection alone. You'll only understand when you put it to use."

Jung Yeonshin smiled faintly and opened his mouth to speak.

"Are you offering to spar with me?"

His tone had changed, becoming slightly more casual. It was the way he spoke when addressing his uncle.

Ma Jin, too, seemed pleased to see his nephew gradually opening his heart.

"That might be nice, but… let's start with introductions. Follow me."

Ma Jin turned and began walking straight away, heading out of the Grand Martial Hall.

Jung Yeonshin, who had been standing still, turned to face his companions.

"Receiving guidance from the leader before an assignment, huh?"

"There's no such thing as too much advice."

"Especially when the opponent is Namgoong. They claim to be the greatest under heaven."

"Lightning Genius, come back safe."

The senior masters of Radiant Demon Squad, who had been standing behind, smiled as they bid him farewell.

It almost sounded like they were saying goodbye casually, as if they expected to see him the next day.

Missions were heavy burdens. Many comrades never returned. That's why their send-offs were lighthearted.

'It's their way of wishing me a safe return.'

It was an unspoken hope that he would come back as naturally as the next day's daylight. Such was the custom of Desolate Fortress. Jung Yeonshin calmly raised his fist in salute and slung his travel bag over his shoulder.

"Young Hero Jung!"

"Yes, Young Hero Heon."

Jung Yeonshin turned to face someone else who, like him, was not yet fully accustomed to the customs of the fortress.

Heon Wonchang was grinning.

The blue hero's headband tied around his forehead fluttered slightly at the back. From an outsider's perspective, it might even seem like he was the one departing on a mission.

"This time, just finish the sparring match and come back. If you're gone too long again, I might end up moving up to blue as well. Isn't it only fair for a comrade to witness your promotion moment, like I did?"

"Young Hero Heon moving up to blue? Isn't that a bit early?"

"I've been hiding seventy percent of my true skills. Young Hero Jung, make sure to finish the match quickly and come back."

Exchanging lighthearted jokes, they turned away.

Jung Yeonshin began walking silently. The floor of the training hall, worn rough by the strides of countless masters, felt especially uneven beneath his feet.

This was his first mission without any companions from the Radiant Demon Squad. They each had their own assignments to carry out.

'Hwangbo said it was a hasty deployment of forces.'

Only after returning did he learn that the Hwangbo clan's annihilation mission had been a difficult decision.

It was an example meant to send a message, and they had pulled in what limited manpower they could.

The martial world was layered over the world itself, and Desolate Fortress served as the stronghold protecting its administrative domain from wandering martial artists.

Even though the Seventeen Sects of the Divine Sword Squad were formidable, their numbers were relatively small when viewed across the entire Central Plains.

Trustworthy talents who shared their ideals of public stability.

Martial artists powerful enough to face the world's greatest masters.

Desolate Fortress' martial artists had to be both. Such individuals were rare and difficult to nurture.

External candidates capable of surviving entry into Desolate Fortress were often filtered out by the Fortress Lord's judgment. It was often said that their personalities were the issue.

'Desolate Fortress suppresses the freedom of martial artists.'

They were the implicit enemy of all other factions in the martial world.

If the entire martial world were seen as one, Desolate Fortress was a minority.

Not because the fortress was small, but because the world was vast. The Thirteen Heavens, Nine Great Sects, Eight Clans, and numerous mid-tier sects created a chaotic world in the Central Plains.

"So, the Namgoong clan confidently accepted the duel proposal?"

In the sealed stone chamber of the Small Training Hall, Jung Yeonshin faced Ma Jin.

"Yes. It's completely different from the Hwangbo situation. It's a one-on-one duel from the start, and they know our circumstances well enough. With an elite force, the outcome is uncertain. Namgoong is clearly stronger than Hwangbo. They're renowned as the greatest clan in the righteous faction."

"…"

"I'll have to head to Sichuan soon as well. It's because of that thunder bombs you encountered before. Word is that the Tang Clan in Sichuan is secretly manufacturing explosive weapons. The Command Bureau ordered me to investigate."

"The Tang Clan… I've heard Sichuan's martial world is dangerous. Even Radiant Demon Squad's Leader can't guarantee survival once entangled in its currents. I heard three of the Nine Great Sects and three of the Thirteen Heavens are concentrated there."

Jung Yeonshin spoke as though it was no big deal. It was a remark made as a nephew.

During the late Yuan and early Ming dynasties, high-level experts skilled in lightness techniques evaded imperial martial artists and disappeared.

It left a huge stain on the Ming Imperial Family's authority.

That's why Desolate Fortress, though technically under imperial jurisdiction, does not publicly operate as such.

Failures in missions carried the greatest weight in the martial world.

Quick-witted martial artists did not hesitate to kill Desolate Fortress members. The phrase 'exterminate completely' was fitting.

"I understand what you mean. But I'm more worried about you."

Ma Jin smiled slightly as he spoke.

"I, Radiant Demon Squad's leader, survived to reach black rank without incident. It's not something a blue novice should be concerned about."

"Without incident?"

Not quite. It was said that he lost a testicle during a mission to rescue Baek Miryeo in his youth.

Jung Yeonshin, who had reflexively glanced toward Ma Jin's groin, quickly averted his eyes.

Ma Jin, frowning slightly, pretended not to notice and continued speaking.

"You displayed a new palm technique, didn't you? During your match with White Qilin."

"Yes, I've been refining it recently."

Jung Yeonshin recalled his fusion of the Demon-Slaying Azure Steel Palm and Demon Roaring Blood Art. It relied on reactive force from opposing energies in a magical formation.

Its power was impressive, but it still lacked precision and was hard to refine.

"The black ranks who saw your martial match that day would have grasped the pros and cons with just one move. The technique isn't precise. Is that right?"

"…That's right."

"Your ready admission is good to see. Let me give advice. What is the foundation of your martial arts now?"

"Jung Clan's Dynamic Arts."

Jung Yeonshin answered without hesitation.

"Right. They said Little Divine Monk Gak Jeong was comparable to the Muscle Sutra. If Shaolin's Eighteen Arhats acknowledged so, your Jung Clan's Dynamic Art is truly a peerless dynamic technique. Haven't you neglected that training recently? While filling inner power."

"Ah."

He nodded. It was training he never skipped at Jung family hall.

Things like repeatedly sitting and standing while circulating true energy with a log placed on his back.

"Since it's a completed martial art, deliberately…"

Jung Yeonshin replied briefly.

"Completed…?"

The conversation broke off briefly. While Ma Jin looked down at him steadily, Jung Yeonshin waited silently.

"…Your meridians' endurance will be beyond what you imagine. Meaning you can be bold in experimenting with martial arts. Unlike ordinary internal masters. Since your whole body is firmly woven together, you needn't greatly worry about energy deviation."

Ma Jin slowly continued speaking.

"Shaolin's seventy-two martial arts are each famous as divine techniques, but when hearing the training methods some come across as bizarre. Things like Hot Sand Palm or Iron Cloth Shirt. Pressing hands into sand heated by fire, dropping bodies from cliffs. They don't worry about internal injuries while training indestructible bodies. It's thanks to tempering the whole body with the Muscle Sutra."

"The leader's insight is no less than Young Hero Heon's. To know Shaolin divine techniques in such detail…"

"You mean Heon Wonchang?"

Ma Jin who furrowed his brow once at Jung Yeonshin's joke shook his head and said:

"The point is, don't worry about energy circulation in your new palm technique. It should be enough to circulate true energy unhesitatingly to refine precision. I know you're absorbed in creating cultivation techniques, but palm techniques will be more useful for now."

"Indeed, your words make sense."

Jung Yeonshin who nodded raised his hands respectfully in greeting.

"Thank you for the advice. It's time I should go."

"…Right, the Namgoong direct bloodline's swords are frightening. Come back after beheading them without carelessness."

The long scar on Ma Jin's face twitched. It seemed like a movement with worry embedded.

It was unlike a black-ranked master who had long experienced Desolate Fortress's customs.

"I'll be back, Leader."

Jung Yeonshin bowed once at the waist and turned around.

Simultaneously he raised energy sense once greatly to confirm what was prepared.

Desolate Sword, Beiming sword, Thousand Silkworm Thread martial clothes, money pouch and travel pack… and martial arts. All were newly equipped on his body.

Preparations were complete. It was time for mission departure.

* * *

The path leaving the fortress' main gate.

Lightning Genius Jung Yeonshin and White Qilin Namgoong Hwashin walked the official road each leading a horse.

Though the young Desolate Fortress blue-ranked masters drew passersby's gazes, Jung Yeonshin paid no mind. It was due to the strange situation.

"Where did the two go, they say?"

"Just that they received missions to pass through other regions first…"

Namgoong Hwashin shook his head as if not knowing.

"What."

The originally assigned mission wasn't like this.

Jung Yeonshin's maternal grandfather Ma Yeonjeok and the Fortress' Elder Council Leader were supposed to accompany as martial match delegates.

They said the Divine Sword Squad Leader and Divine Sword Squad would join midway under the pretext of participation and escort.

'Until joining up, two rising talents travel alone?'

Jung Yeonshin was a bit dumbfounded. How long had it been since being chased as Blood Flame Cult's target?

The main fortress abandoning him again was strange. Perhaps it was the Desolate Fortress' Lord's instruction?

'Though they say murim journeys without hardship aren't good for martial arts achievement…'

He asked:

"Are the Elder Council Leader and Desolate Ma Family Head also carrying out missions?"

"I don't know."

Looking at Namgoong Hwashin smiling with a troubled face, he realized anew.

White Qilin too passed the Desolate Entrance Exam with him.

As it was normally a time to still be at the bottom as a white-ranked warrior, it would be hard to know main fortress circumstances well.

Their situations were the same. Jung Yeonshin raised his energy sense a bit more and said:

"We should hurry on our way. Having built grudges with many Thirteen Heaven Sects, we might find it hard to meet the deadline if we're not careful."

"That seems best."

Namgoong Hwashin readily nodded and they mounted their horses simultaneously.

NEIGH!

They spurred their horses forward without needing to discuss the route.

For Jung Yeonshin, it was no longer unfamiliar territory, and for Namgoong Hwashin, it was the road leading straight to his home.

A breeze signaling another beginning swept past. The strong wind brushing their faces and the vibrations shaking their bodies were exhilarating.

Under the early summer sun, which shimmered with heatwaves, they rode without hesitation.

Namgoong Hwashin smiled and said,

"You're quite skilled at riding."

"I think Young Hero Namgoong is even more so."

Half an hour passed pleasantly. The terrain wasn't difficult.

From Yangyang, where Desolate Fortress was located, to Huizhou in Southern Zhili, the route was straightforward.

Perhaps that was why—

Suddenly, Jung Yeonshin felt a sense of inevitability.

A gust of wind, tinged with a deep crimson hue, seemed to brush against his cheek, as if it had been waiting for this moment.

The energy wave spreading from the distance ahead felt oddly familiar—irregular yet strangely refined.

Had they been waiting there for a long time?

'Weaker than usual. The energy is shallow.'

While still on his horse, the boy spoke. A brief exchange between the two prodigies began.

"Young Hero Namgoong."

"The ominous aura? I felt it."

"Yes. It's Blood Arts Energy."

"Doesn't seem like an ordinary Blood Demon Sword technique."

"It's an Apostle."

"An Apostle of the Blood Flame Cult?"

"Yes. Most likely one of the Seven Apostles."

"I've heard of them. Said to have lived alongside you."

"You jest as well?"

"I'm only human. But the aura is strange—too weak to belong to an Apostle."

"If it's weakened, it's an opportunity. If it's at full strength, we're already too late. They'll catch up with their light movement techniques."

"If we assume joint attacks and discuss the odds, what do you think?"

"I don't know. We'll have to fight loudly and hope the senior masters notice."

He spoke honestly.

His internal energy had increased after consuming the elixir awarded for his last mission.

But in the world of martial arts masters, even a slight difference in strength could determine victory or defeat. Jung Yeonshin remained cautious.

He lived a life where time was always pressing, and he couldn't be certain without pushing himself to the limit.

Would he have a chance?

'Still, if that noticeably weakened energy is real…'

Thud!

Jung Yeonshin gauged the distance and leapt from his horse. His field of view instantly expanded.

At the same time, Namgoong Hwashin also soared upward, entering his peripheral vision. Emerging from the now-close forest was a figure.

She wore a flowing red long robe.

With jet-black hair and a single red eye.

Her appearance hadn't changed much—perhaps her hair had grown slightly longer.

But her condition was different, stained with blood trickling from her lips. The crimson streak looked foreign and jarring.

Blood Energy had regenerative properties, yet she seemed unable to recover her internal injuries.

Crash!

There was no avoiding it now. Jung Yeonshin and Namgoong Hwashin kicked up a storm of light movement arts energy.

As the scenery blurred past at breakneck speed, the face of the Apostle of the Blood Flame Cult filled their vision.

Thud.

"The main hall must have fallen."

Their feet struck the ground, kicking up dust.

Amidst the humid turbulence left in the wake of lightness technique, Jung Yeonshin stopped exactly ten paces away and spoke.

"What do you want? Coming all the way to Yangyang."

"…You weren't home."

Slowly, the Apostle parted her blood stained lips.

She gave a faint, hazy smile, one that almost seemed pitiful.

Her jet-black hair swayed in the dusty wind.

"I came looking for you."

The Apostle's lips moved again. Her red eye opposite the black eyepatch gleamed.

"What's with that appearance?"

Having grown numb to empty madness, Jung Yeonshin asked indifferently.

"Are you worried about me?"

The Apostle's smile brightened. The crimson hue of the smile deepened, as if Namgoong Hwashin wasn't even worth noticing.

"Your black-clad seniors have… rough hands."

Her voice trailed off. It hinted at unstable internal energy circulation.

Jung Yeonshin guessed it had been the squad leaders of Desolate Fortress, whom he hadn't seen during the incident at the Blood Flame Cult's headquarters.

Then it happened.

"I found you, so it's fine now. Come here."

Shuffle.

Smiling, the Apostle staggered forward. Her deep internal injuries were clear, and they seemed far from normal.

Jung Yeonshin raised his hand to stop Namgoong Hwashin from interfering.

Fortunately, he complied. It was a gesture of trust.

Trust earned through his rapid growth, his rank among the blue-rank masters, his completed missions, and their past interactions.

'Something's wrong.'

Jung Yeonshin stood still, observing the Apostle's expression and aura. He waited until her faint breaths brushed against his neck.

Rustle.

With shaky breaths, the Apostle embraced him. The careful rustling of her robe pressed closely against him.

"Go back and create a divine art for me. My own personal technique. My little Grandmaster."

The Apostle whispered. The words tickled his ear.

'If this works on her, it'll work on Namgoong's direct descendants too.'

Jung Yeonshin thought while being embraced.

"Your little Grandmaster…"

He spoke calmly. He hadn't expected to test his new palm technique so quickly in real combat.

As he recited the formulas in his mind, ominous ripples of energy surged from his right hand.

In an instant, the earth beneath him began to glow golden under the sunlight as dust and dirt scattered.

"…no longer exists."

With those words, a thunderous explosion erupted.