Cheonju had already reached the same level of martial attainment as Cheonjeong—standing at the very limit of the first-rate stage.

Cheonhwa was nearly his equal.

However, their opponent was the Head Senior.

If the two of them were to disregard their own Head Senior, Cheonjeong…

Then Eunsong, too, would have no reason to respect the authority of his own Head Senior among the Second Generation, Eun Byeok.

The two, realizing as much, both sighed deeply.

“Come on, Head Senior Cheonjeong! It wasn’t even that bad a joke. You’re so uptight!”

Cheonhwa grinned, laying on the sweetness.

Cheonjeong gave a derisive snort at her tone, then stepped away from them.

“Cheonju.”

“Yes, Head Senior.”

“Keep an eye on Cheonhwa.”

Cheonju pouted.

Then he tugged on Cheonhwa’s sleeve.

Because Cheonjeong’s warning was clear.

He would not overlook any more insolence.

If the Head Senior punished his juniors, not even Eun Byeok could interfere.
Of course, acting that way before an elder master would be discourteous—
But that would be the extent of it.

“Cheonhwa, come on. Looks like the game’s over.”

“Aw, that’s too bad. She’s got such a pretty face, though, doesn’t she, senior brother?”

She was talking about Cheon Soyak.

Eunsong quietly poured tea and spoke.

“Senior Brother Eun Byeok. I have no intention of handing that child over.”

“Really?”

“Yes. It wouldn’t be proper, either. Would the elders permit such a thing?”

“Proper?”

Eun Byeok let out a snort.

“You just said ‘proper’?”

“I don’t believe I’ve said anything wrong.”

Eunsong’s gaze cooled.

But Eun Byeok’s smile didn’t fade.

“Even after taking three disciples, you’ve spent half a year wandering outside. Would you call that ‘proper conduct’?”

“I’m grateful to Master Myunggon for his understanding.”

“So if your master says ‘fine,’ that makes it proper?”

He wasn’t entirely wrong.

Eunsong had indeed taken on three disciples and still gone searching for another.
It was something everyone found odd.

Irresponsible, even… People whispered behind his back.

“Let me ask the girl, then.”

Eun Byeok pointed at Cheon Soyak.

Soyak bowed her head and stepped forward.

“You. What was your name again?”

“Cheon Soyak.”

“Right, Soyak. Do you know who I am?”

Eun Byeok’s question made Soyak knit her brows.

She’d heard that line far too many times growing up in the noble houses.
Everyone loved to ask, Do you know who I am?

“No. I don’t.”

“Then remember. I am the next Sect Leader of the Great Mount Hua Sect, disciple of the Black Plum Sword Lord Myungjeok, and Head Senior of the Second Generation—Eun Byeok!”

“I’ve remembered.”

“I see talent in you. Come under me, and I will personally pass down to you the Ninefold Heaven Plum Sword. What do you say?”

Every Third Generation disciple present stiffened.

Because of the weight that name carried.

“…The Ninefold Heaven Plum Sword, sir?”

“Yes. The Ninefold Heaven Plum Sword—the true art and signature canon of the main Mount Hua Sect.”

Ninefold Heaven Plum Sword.

The supreme true art of the Great Mount Hua Sect—
A sword canon said to paint nine heavens in full bloom.

An art of Ascension—peerless divine swordsmanship—
But forbidden to all who had yet to mature beyond adolescence.

Even Cheonju and Cheonhwa widened their eyes.

Eun Byeok had never once offered to teach them the Ninefold Heaven Plum Sword.

Yet Eunsong remained utterly calm.

He sipped his tea, gazing at the bold wager Eun Byeok had placed.

…And still this peaceful?

Then Soyak’s voice came softly.

“I will not go.”

“…What did you say?”

“I’ve already chosen my master.”

“And what have you even learned?”

“I’ve already learned Hidden Fragrance Drift. Master Eunsong has already instructed me.”

If he had taught her nothing, he would have been her master in name only.
But if he had taught her even a single true technique, the matter was different.

And Hidden Fragrance Drift was one of Mount Hua’s own lightness arts.

“…So that’s why you were so relaxed, Eunsong.”

“She’s already my disciple, Senior Brother.”

Eunsong set down his empty teacup.

Only the faint clack of wood and porcelain met the air.

“The word master bears the character for father, and disciple bears the character for son. Let’s leave it at that.”

It meant—stop doing things that violate the natural order.

Eun Byeok’s brows creased, but he couldn’t refute it.

“You’ve already raised Cheonju and Cheonhwa yourself, haven’t you?”

Eunsong glanced toward the two, their faces twisted with jealousy.

“If you covet another disciple before their eyes, what will those two think?”

“Hah. If they’re lacking, they should work harder to make up for it.”

“Not wrong, but…”

Eunsong gave Cheonjeong a subtle signal—
Take care of her.

Cheonjeong quietly stepped forward and stood beside Soyak.

Then gently led her over to the veranda.

He sat her down next to Eunsong.

Eunsong’s large hand came down to lightly brush her hair.

“If one is a teacher, shouldn’t he at least look a little more closely at his own disciples?”

“…Are you trying to lecture me on a teacher’s duty right now?”

“How could I dare do such a thing, Senior Brother?”

But his words and his eyes told different stories.

Eunsong’s stare pierced straight into Eun Byeok—
And Eun Byeok could not possibly mistake what was written there.

Act your age.

A vein pulsed on Eun Byeok’s forehead.

“Fine. Fine—let’s see how long that calm lasts.”

“I’ll see you at the One-Branch Gathering.”

Eunsong inclined his head as Eun Byeok turned to leave.

But the man didn’t even acknowledge the gesture before spinning on his heel.
Cheonju and Cheonhwa scrambled after him.

Once the three of them had crossed the threshold of the gate,
Cheonjeong shut it behind them and wiped the sweat from his brow.

“Gods, it’s the same every damn time.”

Soyak tilted her head.

“Every time…?”

“When I first came, and when Cheongak came—it was the same thing.”

“Right. Only when Cheongu joined, it wasn’t, huh?”

Cheongak snickered as he added the jab.

Cheongu flared up immediately.

“I joined with you, idiot!”

“So? You think you can beat me?”

“Ugh!”

Among the Third Generation, Cheongak alone had touched the wall of first-rate.

The timing of realization might vary,
but if anyone was expected to reach Apex first in Mount Hua, it was him.

“Still, to think he’d try to steal his junior’s disciple…”

Cheonjeong muttered.

Eunsong chuckled faintly and reached out to ruffle Cheonjeong’s hair.

“Senior Brother Eun Byeok has always lacked refinement.”

“Did you mean lacks courtesy instead of refinement, Master?”

To lack courtesy meant one skipped formalities—
To lack refinement was an insult.

Eunsong chuckled again and patted Cheonjeong’s shoulder.

“Let’s say your master made a slip of the tongue.”

“Ah.”

That “slip” drew laughter from Cheonjeong, Cheongak, and Cheongu alike.

Even Soyak couldn’t help but smile along.

It was the first time in a very long while that she’d laughed.

So long she couldn’t even remember the last.

****

Eunsong’s residence was a shabby straw-roof hut.

But this place was its opposite—
So completely opposite that it was hard to believe both stood on the same Mount Hua.

The office of the next Sect Leader, Great Disciple of the Sect—
Black Plum Sword Lord Myungjeok.

Before his desk, Eun Byeok knelt with his head bowed, trembling.

“…So. You failed to bring her?”

“I—I couldn’t take her by force…”

CRACK!

The ebony desk Myungjeok slammed his hand upon split clean in half.

“And how do you intend to explain this to the Sect Leader?”

“M-my apologies…”

Myungjeok clutched at his hair.

The Sect Leader of the Great Mount Hua Sect—Jeongyang.

His master.
A man who wore the mask of warmth, reason, and civility…

But underneath it, a blind demon.

Among the Nine Great Sects, Mount Hua ranked third.

North venerates Shaolin, South honors Wudang.
Mount Hua could not rise above either.

And Jeongyang could not stand it.

Wudang stood at the pinnacle of Daoism.
Their Supreme Ultimate Radiant Sword deserved its place as a peerless art.
Shaolin was the foremost among the Buddhist schools.
Their Tathagata Divine Palm lacked nothing beside it.

But the Ninefold Heaven Plum Sword was not enough.

A martial canon of Ascension, yes; a transcendent divine art—
Yet unworthy, in his eyes, of the title One Peerless Under Heaven.

At least, that was what he believed.

“…We need a martial art greater than the Ninefold Heaven Plum Sword.”

Wudang’s line began with the Three Forms Sword,
progressed through the Seven Stars Sword, then the Supreme Ultimate Sword,
and for true prodigies, culminated in the Supreme Ultimate Radiant Sword.

Shaolin’s began with Arhat Fist,
then Hundred-Step Divine Fist, then Arhat Divine Fist,
and for prodigies, the Tathagata Divine Palm.

But Mount Hua?

Mount Hua began with the Lesser Clear Sword,
advanced to the Sprouting Flower Sword,
then to the Ninefold Heaven Plum Sword—and ended there.

So it was said.

“…A martial art greater than the Ninefold Heaven Plum Sword, then…”

“Yes. The Great Radiant Ten-Thousand-Plum Sword.”

Just then, the door slid open.

The Sect Leader, Jeongyang, entered.

“Myungjeok. Eun Byeok. Both of you are here.”

A master standing at the mid-Transformation Realm—
The elder who alone inherited the Sect Leader’s secret supreme art, Purple Mist Divine Power.

In sheer martial strength, he was the second greatest in all Mount Hua.

At his overwhelming presence, both Myungjeok and Eun Byeok broke into a cold sweat.

“So you failed to bring the girl.”

Eun Byeok pressed his forehead to the floor.
He couldn’t speak a single word under that crushing aura.

“Grand Circulation… She performed a full grand circulation. Proof she’s reached Apex.”

Jeongyang didn’t care whether his great-grand-disciple turned pale.
He simply stared straight at Myungjeok and issued his command.

“The one to master the Great Radiant Ten-Thousand-Plum Sword must belong to us.”

“…Understood, Master.”

“Do you know what my life has been, Myungjeok? The life of a second-place man.”

Beneath his white brows, pupils gleamed—filled with obsession and madness.

Vast inner power surged, pressing the very air flat.

“My senior brother, Jeonggang, threw away the Sect Leader’s seat like trash,
and so I took it.
Yet when I face the Alliance Leader, the Sword Sovereign himself still puts Wudang and Shaolin above me.
And that’s not all—other sect leaders look down on me as well…”

Jeongyang rested the tip of his sword’s sheath against the floor.

That was all he did.

Yet the granite flooring of Myungjeok’s office split apart with a sharp crack.

“Mount Hua’s number two… a lucky old man who happened to take the Sect Leader’s seat…”

“…Master.”

“Are Cheonju and Cheonhwa proceeding according to plan?”

Jeongyang’s voice lowered to a murmur.

Eun Byeok was already unconscious.
Myungjeok answered in his stead.

“Yes. Since their initiation, they’ve been undergoing Hair-Cutting and Marrow-Washing once a month, without fail.”

When a master attains enlightenment, the body transforms to suit martial perfection—
that’s called rebirth and renewal.

Hair-Cutting and Marrow-Washing meant literally “shaving hair and cleansing the marrow.”
It forced that transformation through another’s hand.

But the pain it brought…

Was equal to having one’s flesh and bones torn apart.

“Continue. One of those two will inherit the Great Radiant Ten-Thousand-Plum Sword.
As for that girl…”

“…What do you intend to do with her?”

“In my Mount Hua Sect, there is no need for any plum blossom that does not look upon me.”

Chapter 12

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