CHAPTER 153

The office of the Radiant Demon Squad's leader was a peculiar place.

The mingling scents of ink, metal, and oil filled the air. A strange fragrance lingered atop the stone-carved table and other furnishings.

The walls, once adorned with multiple swords of the Ma Jin, were now lined with the treasured blades of the Desolate Ma clan.

There were more than ten. The precious stone racks were completely filled.

Swords, by nature, were consumables prone to chipping. The letter that came with the gifts also mentioned this point.

It requested the new leader to use them during training and sparring.

It declared unconditional support for Jung Yeonshin. The letter bore the names of Zhu Yeon-jeong, the mother of Ma Se-in, and the elders of the main family.

Those who once held their heads high had signed the letter as if it were a collective petition, pledging their support without asking for anything in return.

'Connections and status are everything, huh.'

To think it could be resolved so easily.

The boy seated at the desk recalled two reasons.

The first, of course, was the replacement of the Radiant Demon Squad leader. The 17th Squad leader of the Divine Sword Squad was a master whose prowess could dominate even the strongest sects.

As an upper-echelon figure of the Main Fortress, he was treated as one of Desolate Fortress' key leaders.

With such a drastic change in status, no one could now disparage the boy's origins or dare to plot against him.

Any faction would now have to choose between two options—either confront him with everything they had or treat him as an honored guest.

Radiant Demon Squad leader Jung Yeonshin had become that kind of figure.

"…Well done. This is how you approve documents. Your handwriting is rather elegant, Yeonshin, so I have no concerns about you drafting letters."

The second reason was the appointment of Ma Jin as the new head of the Ma clan. He was handing over Radiant Demon Squad leader's duties to Jung Yeonshin.

Ma Yeonjeok's condition was akin to gold powder in water—fragile and in need of rest.

However, Ma Se-in, the next-in-line for leadership, was still very young.

It was a bold decision for Jung Yeonshin, who was already fully trained as a martial artist, to assume the position of the head.

He had to be discussed separately, along with the newly rising young lord of the Ming Cult, who was also a master of mystical martial arts.

'Se-in must feel a heavy burden too. The pressure to grow quickly must be immense.'

Ma Jin would lead the Ma clan until Jung Yeonshin's close friend grew up.

The City of Master Craftsmen reported that the steel prosthetic arm of the Iron Tribe would soon be completed. Would the damage to his left arm, which disrupted his meridian system, be restored?

By the time Ma Jin stepped down as the clan head, he would likely display skills worthy of returning to the Divine Sword Squad.

The boy, who had felt the peak of combat again during the grand assembly, felt a sudden wave of relief.

He often imagined scenarios where he failed to overcome his tribulation and perished.

Such thoughts only strengthened his attachment to his comrades and kin. He simply refrained from showing it.

They would all remember him even after his death. That was deeply precious to him.

'It's a relief.'

Suddenly, warmth flickered in the boy's eyes. Even the corners of his mouth lifted briefly.

It was a rare sight, but Ma Jin, skilled in observation techniques, managed to catch it.

"You brat."

His scarred face softened remarkably. It was far from the demeanor of the fearsome heir of the Ma clan.

He looked less like an undefeated master and more like an uncle gazing fondly at his nephew.

Ma Jin's advice continued, carrying a faint smile.

"The higher you go, the more importance is placed on being well-versed in both civil and martial disciplines. You don't need to reach lofty academic heights, but some people judge you based on how well you understand principles and how elegantly you write. This is especially true for old noble families or officials close to the Imperial family. Those are the kinds of people you'll have to deal with endlessly."

"You mean the Imperial family?"

"Leaders of the main fortress possess special authority. If a corrupt official obstructs a mission, you have the power, as a Black Rank, to execute them on the spot."

It was an extraordinary privilege. A direct contradiction to the Great Ming Code and the current policies of the imperial family.

Jung Yeonshin thought of Ji Hyeon, the infamous member of the Ming aristocracy, who had caused chaos at the Hwangbo branch family.

He had tried to sabotage the boy's mission as the husband of the branch family's leader.

If Chung Myung, another member of the clan, hadn't been there, it would have been a disaster.

'So there's nothing to stop me anymore.'

It felt liberating. Jung Yeonshin silently listened to Ma Jin's explanation.

"There are only two conditions. First, plausible circumstances must exist. Second, there should be few witnesses. After that, the cause and effect are rewritten as if by fate. It's terrifyingly natural. Among the Eastern Depot and Embroidered Uniform Guards, the groups directly under the imperial family, the more convenient faction will handle the covert operation. It'll be reported as a death unrelated to the main fortress."

It was truly terrifying. He had heard rumors, but hearing it directly made it even more unsettling.

The Eastern Depot and Embroidered Uniform Guards—institutions that ruled as emissaries even in the Forbidden City in Beijing.

They wielded extralegal authority that surpassed the Great Ming Code. Jung Yeonshin had heard enough about them.

Even high-ranking officials called them the emissaries of the King of Hell.

The emperor's blade cooperated with the leaders of Desolate Fortress. Such power was rare in the world.

However, Ma Jin's expression darkened slightly. The scars on his forehead bunched up, revealing traces of concern.

"I mentioned your handwriting, didn't I? Yeonshin, you must not let the imperial officials look down on you. Otherwise, you'll find yourself manipulated."

"What do you mean by manipulated?"

"They're human too. They prioritize convenience. If you execute a high-ranking official during a mission, it becomes a major hassle for them. They have to fabricate evidence and publicly declare the cause of death. That's a tedious process. Sometimes, they even have to take responsibility for our actions, which creates political burdens. So they're not always friendly to us."

"I understand."

Jung Yeonshin slowly nodded.

Ma Jin continued.

"They are loyal to the emperor but wield significant authority. They may impose restrictions on your missions to suit their own agendas. It has happened often. Only a handful of people outrank Black Ranks. Many new leaders have simply endured the frustration rather than reporting it to the fortress lord or sect leaders. Even Obeying Heaven Squad's leader faced this when he first started."

"How about you, Uncle?"

The boy asked suddenly. Ma Jin's lips curved slightly.

"Eunuchs from the Eastern Depot came. At the time, even the chief of the Depot held immense power, but they didn't dare provoke me. Probably because my methods were more domineering than Obeying Heaven Squad leader's—even from the start."

"…"

"There's no mystery to intimidation. You just need strong rhetoric or martial skills. If necessary, suppress them with force."

"Is that acceptable?"

"Both sides have clearly defined roles, so there's no need to worry about confrontation ruining a mission. And you, Yeonshin, have even less reason to yield."

"…?"

"The current Emperor was personally mentored by the Lord of our Fortress. The Lord is not only the Emperor's teacher but also a Ming dynasty prince. You, as the Lord's disciple and the bearer of the seventeenth squad leader title of our sect, are a blade forged by the Lord himself. On top of that, you trained directly under the Lord, like the Emperor did, so your status is not beneath that of the Eastern Depot or the Embroidered Guard."

Ma Jin gestured to a document on his desk, directing Yeonshin's gaze to the seal stamped at the bottom: "Radiant Demon Squad Leader"

The document was proof of Jung Yeonshin's authorization for Radiant Demon Squad's supplies. Any obscure disciples or white-robed warriors sent to the central bureau with this document would receive funds and materials corresponding to the listed items and deliver them back to Yeonshin.

"Yeonshin, your background is the strongest among all newly appointed squad leaders in history. However, the pride and self-esteem of those tied to the Imperial family encompass the entire realm, so a clash is inevitable. It's a battle for dominance."

There was a reason for Ma Jin's advice at this moment.

A message had arrived, clearing today's schedule. Yeonshin had been summoned to meet the Crown Prince residing in the sect's main stronghold.

The Crown Prince of the Ming dynasty.

A direct imperial descendant, and a martial arts disciple of the Fortress' Lord. He was said to be the ultimate authority on matters concerning the Sect and the Ming royal family.

Yeonshin had met him briefly when he first ascended to the blue rank and had received a glimpse of the sword path. Since then, they hadn't crossed paths.

Tomorrow, Yeonshin was to embark on his mission.

To roam the martial world as a black-robed warrior of the fortress, he needed to be capable of cutting down even those officials who stood in his way.

Today's meeting was to introduce him to someone who would collaborate with him in the future.

"This is actually a good thing. It's better than meeting someone from the Eastern Depot or the Embroidered Guard for the first time. There are even rumors that the Crown Prince favors you." 

Ma Jin remarked.

"Favors…? Me?"

Yeonshin raised an eyebrow, puzzled. He had only met the Crown Prince a handful of times.

Ma Jin chuckled faintly.

"The Crown Prince finds joy in very few things. If you can create music with a sword, regardless of your rank, you'll gain his favor. Even the masters of inner energy within the imperial palace rarely showcase such skill."

"Ah."

Yeonshin thought back to his sword techniques.

He had put away such arts—unused and untouched. They consumed life force.

Until he reached the level of uniting essence, spirit, and energy, and the state of the Three Flowers Gathering at the Crown, he wouldn't be able to handle the strain on his crown chakra.

Still, it was fortunate that he had caught the Crown Prince's eye back then.

"This is a prerequisite before stepping into the martial world. Only after establishing a cooperative relationship with the imperial family can you fully carry out your duties as a Squad leader of the fortress."

Ma Jin seemed unconcerned.

Perhaps it was because he had witnessed Yeonshin slay both the Blade-Thirst Demon and the Sword Fist Demon back-to-back in Sichuan Province. He concluded his advice calmly.

"Forge a relationship in whatever way you can. It is the most critical task before you."

"Understood."

The boy stood up.

* * *

He arrived at an extravagant pavilion, accompanied by an attendant in luxurious silk garments.

When he had ascended to the blue rank, he had come with other warriors. Now, he was alone. The boy, dressed in a pitch-black long robe, drew curious glances from the attendant.

The attendant's gaze was peculiar, as if fixated on the uneven hems of the black robe, which seemed to bother him greatly.

"Squad leader, please ensure that you conduct yourself with the utmost decorum." 

The attendant advised.

Yeonshin nodded silently.

The Crown Prince's residence loomed before him. The beams of the roof reflected the deep blue of the sky and the golden sunlight.

As befitting the abode of one so dignified, the atmosphere was profoundly serene. Even the faint sound of the breeze sweeping the ground was crystal clear.

"The Radiant Demon Squad Leader of Desolate Fortress has arrived." 

The attendant announced upon entering the hall.

A soft response echoed in reply: "Let him in."

At the same time, the crimson doors swung open on both sides.

There was no sign of anyone touching the handles.

They moved on their own, as if manipulated by the Desolate Fortress Lord's telekinetic powers.

As the view slowly unfolded, Jung Yeonshin stepped over the threshold with measured steps.

Two pairs of eyes fixed on the boy.

"It has been a while." 

A peerlessly handsome young man said , his voice unhurried. He sat on the grand seat of the Crown Prince.

The Crown Prince. The third authority in Ming China.

He had ears sharp as the tip of a blade. Though shorter than Jung Yeonshin, he was someone who had been appointed as heir despite the Crown Prince being alive and well.

The energy between his thick eyebrows was extraordinary. It wasn't a matter of martial skill but rather an impression that made his inner thoughts unfathomable.

His demeanor was both cool and indifferent. Looking down at Jung Yeonshin felt natural to him.

It was an odd gaze. Both of his pupils flickered with black lightning.

"Radiant Demon Squad leader Jung Yeonshin greets Your Highness." 

The boy greeted plainly.

"So you are already a leader of a squad. Remarkably fast for your age." 

Said the Heir.

His voice came from within a shaft of sunlight slanting through the window.

He spoke as if he stood alone in all the world.

"Congratulations on becoming part of those who govern the world. I have no personal matters to discuss, so speak with Myeong-yeo. He is the right hand of the Chief Eunuch."

Closing his eyes as if to say he would merely listen, the man standing beside him with his hands clasped stepped forward.

"His Highness' words are too gracious. Though calling me the Chief Eunuch's right hand is overwhelming, I shall take it as encouragement to serve the nation with greater diligence."

The noble tone characteristic of the imperial family flowed out like water.

His sharp, blade-like ears stood out. An eunuch of the Ming nobility.

The boy sensed an unusual wave of energy. The eunuch standing on the dais was undoubtedly a master.

'He must have trained in the Youth Skill said to be practiced by eunuchs. Though it demands a high price, it's rumored to be an exceptional martial art. How profound could it be?'

While faint curiosity stirred in him, Myeong-yeo's eyes narrowed slightly and then curved upward. He gazed at Jung Yeonshin intently.

A eunuch of the Eastern Depot, the Ming imperial secret service, smiled at the boy.

"It brightens my view to see such a young hero."

"Radiant Demon Squad's leader" 

Jung Yeonshin replied calmly, cupping his fist. He did not bow as he had to the Heir.

Myeong-yeo's lips curved into a strange arc.

"Since you depart tomorrow, I assume you have urgent matters to attend to first. I would like to test you, if I may."

"A test?"

"To assess your skills more accurately. I did watch your promotion duel, of course. However, it was far from enough to properly analyze the new Radiant Demon Squad's leader, both as a leader and a martial artist."

Myeong-yeo's tone was soft. His voice was thin, perhaps due to being castrated at an early age.

"This is an extremely important matter. A single test cannot fully determine someone's abilities. I need to know what techniques you struggle against in various scenarios, how strong your attacks are, how fast your feints and evasive maneuvers are. I must know everything."

"…"

"For the sake of deployment efficiency. The Eastern Depot must exert great effort for each leader of the Divine Sword Squad, so I hope you'll be understanding."

"Do you question the imperial family's official tests?" 

Jung Yeonshin asked evenly.

"Oh dear." 

Myeong-yeo chuckled.

"Even the imperial examinations have three stages—Provincial, Metropolitan, and Palace. If your promotion duel was akin to passing the Provincial Exam, then think of this as the Metropolitan Exam. Of course, a mere licentiate could never compare to a head of Desolate Fortress."

"And the Palace Exam?"

"That would be real combat. I, too, am curious about how much the young leader will contribute to the people."

His sharp tongue was no ordinary one. It suited an eunuch surviving in the world's harshest political arena.

'As expected. He's only cordial with my uncle.'

It seemed different from when Ma Jin was newly appointed. While understanding the situation, the boy felt a twinge of guilt toward his uncle.

Even at that moment, Myeong-yeo continued.

"The Murim Alliance's Opening Tournament. A mere teenager who has just earned Black Rank is entrusted with a major task…? The reactions of those who don't take records at face value are all the same. They find it… suspicious."

Suspicious.

It meant something was chaotic and questionable.

Rarely used, the term implied that the Eastern Depot's pursuit of perfection left them uneasy about a teenage leader.

"Your duel was certainly impressive. However, my eyes must be poor, for there were aspects I could not discern."

Myeong-yeo looked down at Jung Yeonshin.

"The sword strike that ended the duel—was it fueled by energy you gained from elixirs, or did it arise from a momentary brilliance that drew a masterful path?"

"Does it matter?"

"It absolutely matters. It's a question of stability. If your unusually dense energy was obtained through short-term techniques, it would make it harder for us to assist you. However, if you can consistently deliver such strikes, that would be a different matter."

Myeong-yeo gestured.

Whoosh!

A faint wind stirred inside the room. In an instant, threads of energy spread into the air, vibrating the surroundings.

Like strands of silk, they fanned out and began to sweep the space.

It could only have happened with prior permission from the Heir.

"Radiant Demon Squad leader." 

Myeong-yeo said with a smile.

"Come at me as if I were a blade. Use any means you like—dodge or shatter. I will analyze your true martial prowess."

"That's ridiculous."

"Pardon?"

Myeong-yeo's expression turned odd, but the boy didn't retract his offhand remark.

'Why bother?'

Jung Yeonshin simply observed the wind currents forming before him.

Myeong-yeo. A noble eunuch specializing in energy techniques.

A rare opponent for Jung Yeonshin, whose mentor Chung Myung excelled in swordsmanship, and whose teacher, the Fortress' Lord, was too exalted to approach.

'This is a good chance.'

Without hesitation, the boy stepped forward. Energy blazed white within his upper dantian.

His Baihui acupoint pulsed brightly in his head.

Whoosh.

Even before a strand of wind brushed his chest, he opened his Jianliao point below his right shoulder while tensing his deltoid muscle.

Through a combination of precise muscular control and minor energy pathways, he generated a short burst of internal energy, sending a brief explosion of power through the Transcending Law Radiant Wheel. The force lightly pushed his shoulder backward.

Swoosh.

As he took a single step in tandem with the push, the evasion felt effortless. It was as though the gusts themselves revealed a path for him to follow—a reaction that occurred at an almost otherworldly speed.

Myeong-yeo's eyes widened in shock, and Jung Yeonshin moved forward once more.

Whoosh—

This time, two streams of wind came at him from both his side and front.

In that fleeting moment, he released all tension from the erector spinae muscles along his back and the psoas muscle in his lower abdomen. The Shenyu Acupoint at his right hip ignited with the energy of the circular technique.

Using a relaxed state to unleash energy, his body, honed through the Jung Clan's Dynamic Arts, adjusted the fine muscles around his energy points.

Swish.

His entire body spun twice, slipping through the converging streams of wind. His movements resembled fluttering leaves, swaying delicately but eluding every attempt to pin him down.

The martial art, once fragmented and incomplete, was gradually solidifying into something tangible. One step, then another—his footwork grew lighter and more fluid, as though he was possessed.

The boy's black long robe fluttered violently, the only thing stirred by his movements. The sharp bursts of wind that Myeong-yeo had launched with his energy failed even to graze the hem of his clothing.

Whoosh.

The techniques inspired by Chung-Myung's teachings began to evolve. Jung Yeonshin's unique reaction speed, muscular adjustments, and energy control wove themselves into graceful, precise movements.

The martial insight burning in his upper dantian flashed like a continuous streak of lightning illuminating his mind.

The sheer inspiration he drew from the gusts of wind was staggering. It was enough to transform an unstructured martial art into a fully realized technique.

'Wind Body.'

The breeze that had seeped into his mind brought with it these two words—the name of his footwork technique.

What had previously been a nameless, instinctive movement was now bound together into a cohesive method, a system created solely for Jung Yeonshin.

It was at that moment that Wind Body, a unique footwork method, was born—a masterpiece among martial arts.

Step.

Before he realized it, he was already standing directly in front of Myeong-yeo. Dust exploded from the final step he had taken, sending a shockwave rippling outward.

The vortex of wind energy that had been swirling around Myeong-yeo wrapped around Jung Yeonshin's pant legs for a brief moment before it unraveled completely in a small explosion, dissipating the currents of air Myeong-yeo had painstakingly created.

Hwaaaah!

Myeong-yeo staggered backward. As the one who had initiated the technique, he now faced the backlash of his disrupted martial energy.

The eunuch staggered as his wind currents shattered under the pressure.

"Why so?" 

The Heir asked, unmoved by the scene.

"Ugh…!"

Myeong-yeo could not respond, swallowing blood.

'Did he suffer internal injuries?'

Jung Yeonshin mused, his expression softening slightly.

"My energy must seem unstable." 

The boy answered in his stead.

The Heir burst into laughter.

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