CHAPTER 144

"I told you to come closer, but you didn't listen."

With the soft rustle of small footsteps, the Lord of Desolate Fortress took a step forward.

It was right in front of Jung Yeonshin. Taking one step, and then closing the gap by half a step more.

"Is it because you've come of age?"

A voice tinged with laughter reached him, accompanied by a faint scent. It smelled of grass.

The two-step distance narrowed to half a step.

Having reached his growth spurt, Jung Yeonshin stood nearly as tall as her. Their eyes met at the same level.

The gaze of an absolute master filled his vision. It was a sea of deep green.

The boy was forced to face the overwhelming presence carried in the Lord's emerald eyes.

It made him understand why terms like heart-killing intent and mind-shaped sword existed.

How profound must her mastery of energy manipulation be, with such presence and intent?

He was reminded of the sect leader, who had relentlessly pushed even under pressure.

The swordsmanship, gleaming like moonlight, had seemed almost otherworldly in its beauty.

It was the most striking eye contact of his life.

Jung Yeonshin stared into the dark pupils reflected in the eyes of the Lord of Desolate Fortress. They were his own eyes.

Compared to the absolute master's emerald pupils, his black eyes held only a faint trace of power.

When would he be able to look into her eyes and confidently ask for the fruit of the World Tree?

'Radiant Wheel.'

The boy silently called upon the wheel of inner energy, seeking composure.

It hadn't been like this when he inherited the Moonlight Harmony Technique. The origin point of the external energy flow granted by another resided in the famous acupoint on his back.

But this was different. This was a lesson in martial techniques.

"The senses of a master cannot be easily deceived. Engrave this truth in your heart."

The Lord of Desolate Fortress spoke quietly, still maintaining eye contact.

Jung Yeonshin did not find it strange.

It was said that martial arts scattered across the world were so numerous and diverse that their forms of transmission varied greatly as well.

Even the Iron Sand Palm of Shaolin was such an example. Practitioners were said to temper their skills by thrusting bare hands into heated sand in a mortar.

Her calm voice continued.

"But once you grasp the intent of false strikes, their reasoning becomes weapons."

"Is it because of the masters' faith? In their own perception…"

Jung Yeonshin asked calmly.

For a moment, her eyes blinked. The long eyelashes that moved with them cast a faint shadow.

The Lord of Desolate Fortress' eyes deepened in color.

"You understand two points with one phrase. You are correct. It's a method to turn strengths into weaknesses and to disrupt not the five senses but the sense of energy perception."

"Ah."

"It is, in fact, a technique difficult to use against weaker opponents, because their energy perception is weak."

"Then, the reason we're standing face-to-face like this…"

"Feel it. For you, this alone should suffice."

With a soft whisper, her face drew closer.

Swish.

Her white forehead slowly touched the boy's forehead.

It was soft. Very warm.

For a moment, Jung Yeonshin felt his mother's presence. It had been the same when he was granted the Moonlight Harmony Technique.

A fleeting image crossed his mind—a scene where he wouldn't have needed to forge steel-like inner strength if his mother, Ma Yeonsang, had been alive to nurture him with such warmth.

But it was only for a moment. The Lord of Desolate Fortress quietly pulled away.

Whoosh—

The view flipped. It felt as if he had been rotated upside down, with his head as the center.

The boy felt as though he were standing upside down in midair. Even his vision followed suit.

Without any prior sign, it had happened along with a breeze that brushed his energy perception, as if teasing it.

It was as though the sixth sense encircling his entire body had been softly kneaded.

"…"

Jung Yeonshin, seemingly standing upside down in midair, faced the Lord of Desolate Fortress, who remained grounded.

Their foreheads mirrored each other's lips. The boy's breath slightly ruffled the leaf-colored bangs of the Lord of Desolate Fortress.

'What is this?'

Jung Yeonshin wondered.

By this point, it was bewildering. Was this an Illusory Sword technique designed to induce hallucinations?

Or were her hair and his breath also illusions?

Given that the transcendent Lord of Desolate Fortress had personally demonstrated her ultimate technique, perhaps the essence of swordsmanship truly lay in the realm of the mysterious and divine.

Had confusion shown on his face? The Lord of Desolate Fortress smiled.

"Your lips are adorable. They remind me of leaves swaying when I was young."

It was indeed mysterious.

At this moment, the boy realized something inversely. How firmly his senses and energy perception were intertwined.

To react swiftly to a spear or blade flying from behind, one's physical senses and internal energy perception had to be tightly synchronized.

That seemed to be the cause. To deceive perception was akin to performing miracles that manipulated senses.

'The stronger the link between perception and energy, the greater the master.'

That was why the highest-level martial artists could face entire groups alone.

And so, this technique he had just experienced was terrifying.

Though the Lord of Desolate Fortress called it a false strike, the real strike following it would almost certainly hit due to the disrupted perception.

It was a chain-like technique leading to instant death.

Its utility was immense, yet success seemed equally difficult.

Masters' perceptions were extraordinarily sensitive and robust.

The system of internal energy flowing through the twelve meridians and hundreds of smaller vessels was often likened to a microcosm.

It would be extremely difficult to manipulate such perception with a mere false strike.

Jung Yeonshin asked without thinking.

"How is it done?"

"Am I not standing here to show you with my own body?"

She returned the question in a calm voice.

He understood her intent. Jung Yeonshin slowly closed his eyes.

He didn't delve inward but instead entrusted his awareness to the intangible energy radiating from his inner wheel.

At the same time, he sensed the energy waves of the Lord of Desolate Fortress sweeping across his entire body.

It was an unusual technique. It didn't stop at the shockwave of energy output.

Like a willful force, it climbed along his own energy waves and disrupted perception.

'So this is it.'

He realized it instantly.

The boy spoke.

The Lord of Desolate Fortress did not answer immediately. She gazed silently at the boy with eyes like jade.

It was as if her gaze questioned whether he truly found it too difficult.

How much expectation did she place on a prodigy like Lightning Genius? Outwardly, she might seem indifferent.

Jung Yeonshin only realized what he had said after speaking. It was because she remained an imposing presence.

It wasn't just because she was the guardian of the World Tree. Anyone would find it hard to breathe easily before an absolute master.

"Even so…"

The boy spoke again, almost stumbling over his words—a rare occurrence.

"I have understood the method of manipulating energy waves and sword wind. I had just grown accustomed to handling wind through Senior Chung Myung's teachings, and I've gained several insights. I've also realized how frightening the false strike you demonstrated truly is."

"That's why I came so close. At a normal distance, it's much harder to achieve this level of influence."

The Lord of Desolate Fortress replied quietly.

Jung Yeonshin nodded silently.

If it worked regardless of distance, it would no longer be martial arts but an extraordinary technique.

"Think of it as stealing a single breath from your opponent. Anything beyond that is pointless."

"I've fully grasped the formula. I'm sure it will prove useful someday. With persistent training, I believe I can master it."

At the boy's words, the corners of her lips lifted slightly.

"You have entered the path."

Her faint breath dispersed just beneath Jung Yeonshin's nose.

Still standing close, her white hand gently pushed against his chest.

Rustle.

The brush of fabric at her fingertips made a faint sound, accompanied by her soft laughter.

"It won't take long. It may even be used for your black-rank ascension."

"Ah."

Taking a step back, Jung Yeonshin let out a short exclamation.

He had momentarily forgotten his focus on the lesson.

There had been dueling ceremonies during his promotion to the white and blue ranks.

It wouldn't be any different for black. He had heard there would simply be additional procedures and considerations.

He would likely have to face an officially recognized master within the sect—an opponent possessing profound martial skills.

'They'll be formidable.'

Jung Yeonshin slowly raised his hands in a respectful salute, expressing gratitude for the precious technique she had imparted.

"I will not disgrace you, my lady, and I will repay this honor in a manner befitting your reputation."

"Simply reveal your true talent."

She answered softly.

It was a tone that marked the end of the lesson.

She turned slowly, as though heading back to her chambers.

Jung Yeonshin suddenly spoke again.

Before he could even finish his words, the Lord of Desolate Fortress stopped moving. She had sensed his faint presence.

"There is one thing I wish to ask."

"Speak."

She replied with her slender back still turned to him.

"Is it truly impossible to wield 'Sword of the Heart'? I mean the Heart-Kill Sword of intent."

Jung Yeonshin asked as a promising candidate for the rank of Divine Sword Squad leader.

It was the question of a young master who, despite disliking his own nature, was born with a love for martial arts.

"Our paths differ."

Her resonant voice echoed, filling the courtyard despite the noise outside.

It seemed to imbue the deserted rear garden with tranquility.

"But for you, it may one day be possible."

And that was all.

The setting sun cast its glow over the hem of her wide robes.

Silent rays of light rippled through her hair like waves. It was as though the day testified to her strength, even without her drawing a sword.

Rustle.

She walked away slowly. With her long strides, the day faded into dusk.

Even then, Jung Yeonshin did not lower his salute.

'I've grown stronger again. So many questions remain.'

The boy, clad in a borrowed black robe, had taken his first steps into the world of false strikes. And it was none other than the Lord of Desolate Fortress who had taught him.

The next day.

Jung Yeonshin entered the main gate of the fortress with his companions. Finally, they had returned.

He stepped through the large, open doors. Heon Wonchang, walking alongside him, let out a long sigh filled with emotion.

"We've made it back alive, after all. It was a difficult journey."

"I hope the rewards are plenty. I'm out of poppy resin—and wine, too."

Flame Dragon hopped lightly down from the carriage. His movements were strikingly nimble.

Patting the young master's shoulder, he spoke with a relaxed tone.

"Lend me some silver. Everything here is great, but the pay is far too stingy. It can't keep up with my spending."

"A drunkard and a poppy addict. I don't feel like lending money I won't get back."

The boy replied as he glanced at Flame Dragon's hand.

It was trembling slightly.

It didn't seem to be withdrawal symptoms. Most likely, it was the fiery energy of the Solar Divine Meridian, which was said to cause chronic pain.

At the same time, Jung Yeonshin sensed something unusual in the vastness of the fortress.

Crowds were slowly beginning to gather. It wasn't just a few people.

Excitement filled the air, accompanied by murmurs.

There was only one explanation. Word had spread that the protagonist of the black-rank promotion ceremony had arrived.

It was completely different from his ascension to blue rank.

The fortress seemed to be preparing for a rare and significant event.

'Finally.'

The greatest challenge within Desolate Fortress now awaited the boy.