The night before the One-Branch Gathering.

Third-Generation Hall, Cheon Soyak’s room.

Soyak was spreading out her bedding when she heard a voice.

— “Can you hear me, Soyak.”

It was her master, Eunsong, sending a transmitted voice.

He, too, was a martial artist at the threshold of Transcendent Apex who could draw Sword Light. Soyak didn’t startle; she simply glanced around.

— “Open the window.”

When she slid it open, the cold night wind poured in.

She swept her hair back and searched for her master.

Down below, seated on the trunk of a thick-based tree, was Eunsong.

Soyak moved to leap down without hesitation.

She had practiced the essence of Hidden Fragrance Drift whenever she had a chance and had fully mastered it.

A drop from this height wouldn’t injure her.

But Eunsong stopped her.

— “Just stay there. Nodding or shaking your head will be enough.”

Soyak nodded.

When she drew inner power to her eyes, she could make out her master smiling far away.

— “You may have sensed it already, but the Sect Leader is not a good person. Since I refused to give you up, something fitting will surely be imposed as the price.”

A month ago, Senior of the Second Generation, Eun Byeok, had certainly introduced himself this way.

Successor-apparent of the Great Mount Hua Sect, disciple of the Plum Blossom Sword Lord Myungjeok, and Head Senior of the Second Generation.

“Successor-apparent” meant Myungjeok was in turn a disciple of Sect Leader Jeongyang.

Quick on the uptake, Soyak nodded again.

— “It’s for the same reason he had Cheonju and Cheonhwa learn the Ninefold Heaven Plum Sword.”

Ninefold Heaven Plum Sword.

It is the true art regarded as Mount Hua’s emblematic canon.

Jeongyang’s prejudice was wrong.

The Ninefold Heaven Plum Sword is in no way inferior to the Supreme Ultimate Radiant Sword or the Tathagata Divine Palm.

Otherwise, how could Elder Jeonggang of Mount Hua—styled the Sword Sovereign of Mount Hua—hold a place among the Three Emperors?

It was not because her grandmaster, Elder Jeonggang, learned the Great Radiant Ten-Thousand-Plum Sword.

From the beginning that art was for a chosen handful of talents.

What all of Mount Hua learned to raise its name high was always the Ninefold Heaven Plum Sword.

— “So be careful. Those two will try to harm you.”

There was much she wanted to ask.

Whether those two, like the Sect Leader, bore malice.

What she should do.

But here in the Mount Hua Sect, in the middle of the Third-Generation Hall, and on the eve of the One-Branch Gathering—

This was not the time to ask and answer such things.

— “I need to go. Being away too long will draw suspicion.”

Soon, her master’s figure vanished.

Soyak stared blankly at the spot, which bore not even Eunsong’s footprints.

A month.

It had been quite a pleasant and cozy time.

Though she could not say everything had been friendly…

For the first time in a long while, she felt she had tasted warm human affection again.

But she had not come here to bask in warmth.

The Sword Sovereign, otherwise the Alliance Leader.

The supreme absolute who carried that weighty name.

She had followed Eunsong to take revenge on him.

Born the eldest son of the Namgung Clan, inheritor of the Sovereign Sword Form.

Born with a Heaven-Forged Body; like the deceased Heavenly Demon, presumed to have reached the Transformation Realm.

A seventy-year-old elder monster whose blade had yet to dull.

The Sword Sovereign Namgung Ak.

He was Soyak’s enemy.

He was the ringleader who ordered the Flame-Saber Lord to annihilate her sect.

“…Fifty years. You’ve ruled a long time.”

An awfully long span.

Soyak quietly drew the Falling Blossom Tranquil Edge.

Moonlight ran pale along the pitch-black blade.

A sword light for its length, yet lighter in the hand.

With one shake and sweep, the inner power that had slumbered deep in her dantian stirred awake.

Someday she would exact revenge with this.

She wouldn’t think beyond that.

“Haa…”

She sighed deep and sheathed the sword again.

Her master’s words had sunk deep and become a train of thought.

The reason for teaching the Ninefold Heaven Plum Sword to those two.

To injure her…

But once a thought forks, it sends out branches.

They could have taught only one of them.

Why both?

Given that the two stood at similar realms, it wasn’t an insurance policy in case one failed.

If Cheonju lost, Cheonhwa losing was a foregone conclusion anyway.

“…Two targets?”

Did her master Eunsong have any other disciple under him who would be a worthy target besides herself?

In that moment, it came to her.

The Head Senior must participate in the One-Branch Gathering.

If—if Head Senior Cheonjeong were made unable to serve as Head Senior…

In effect, the leaders of the Third Generation would become those two.

“…You arranged it meticulously.”

Soyak exhaled and spread her bedding.

If she closed her eyes and sought sleep, she would have nightmares again.

Her parents’ faces telling her to hide.

The hideous screams of that day.

Even so, she could not avoid sleep.

Not simply because drowsiness tugged at her.

She wanted to remember the faces of her mother and father, even if only like this.

All night, the sleeping Soyak’s muffled sobs bled into the quilt.

****

Rewinding time to the day the One-Branch Gathering opened.

The tent for Eunsong’s entering disciples.

Cheonjeong still could not forget the overwhelming fragrance of that Purple Firmament Pellet.

Even when he tried to calm his heart, it wasn’t easy.

‘If I face it with desire, I’ll ruin everything.’

A wave of anxiety swept him.

He was the Head Senior, but it was hard to call him exceptional.

Of course, if you sifted the Third Generation into those with aptitude and those without, he had it.

But he knew the truth: at best he was gifted, not a genius.

If he lost here.

If he lost after fighting his best, that would be one thing—but if he lost miserably…

It was a humiliation he didn’t even want to imagine.

“Are you shaking that much?”

Eunsong chuckled lightly and patted his back.

As he gently soothed him, he read Cheonjeong’s meridian flows.

The unsteady quiver made for a rather complicated picture.

Still, thanks to the Primordial Clear-Heart Method’s outstanding purity, it looked unlikely to become a problem.

“I fear bringing shame under the name of Head Senior.”

“Honest of you. It’s fine.”

Eunsong shrugged.

Then he gestured toward Cheon Soyak, seated opposite and regulating her breath.

“I had a fellow disciple like that, too.”

“Do you mean Elder Eunjung?”

“Yes. Even now my fellow disciple is twice the talent I am. I haven’t long since crossed the wall into Transcendent Apex, and my fellow disciple is already drawing close to its far edge.”

Elder Jeonggang of Mount Hua does not take in those without talent.

Measured by pure martial talent, Eunsong could never catch Eunjung.

But Eunsong’s strength lay elsewhere.

Like Elder Jeonggang, he had an eye for truly seeing aptitude.

And an overwhelming ability to analyze nearly every martial canon.

Eunsong smiled faintly.

Until now, there had been no occasion for it to show.

The eye that chose timber, the ability to analyze and teach martial arts—

These are not proven by one’s personal force of arms, are they?

But with time, when you raise disciples, it comes out.

Who was the more fitting person as a master.

Cheonjeong was no different.

Not that he possessed such an eye and analytic power…

But Eunsong believed.

That he would become the best kind of “senior” above others.

“The first match!”

A ringing voice boomed from outside.

The true start of the One-Branch Gathering.

“Third Generation disciple Cheonso (天昭) versus Third Generation disciple Cheonju (天柱)!”

Cheonso.

At that name, Eunsong lifted an eyebrow.

“If it’s Cheonso, he’s the great-grand-disciple of Elder Myeonggwang, the Eccentric Plum.”

First Generation disciple “Eccentric Plum” Myeonggwang.

He was the elder just below Eunsong’s own master, Master Myunggon—a weirdo who walked a strange path.

Mount Hua is a sword school, yet he chose fist arts.

The inheritor of the Falling Blossom Chasing Shadow Fist.

The only First Generation disciple who preserved a fist art so that fistwork would not die out in sword-tilted Mount Hua.

He was praised for that…

But in truth, he wasn’t much of a teacher.

“Let’s go watch.”

Even so, the Falling Blossom Chasing Shadow Fist was a martial art worth watching and learning any time.

Eunsong took Cheonjeong and Soyak out of the tent.

In the distance, Cheongu and Cheongak were already seated and watching the match.

“…Master, you already know which side will win, don’t you?”

Cheon Soyak looked at Eunsong with those black eyes.

Eunsong answered by ruffling her hair.

A silent yes.

Instead, he glanced sidelong at Cheonjeong.

“Even setting aside that Mount Hua is a sword school, the opponent has learned the Ninefold Heaven Plum Sword.”

Cheonjeong answered in his place.

He had, however vaguely, gauged Cheonju’s level.

Far above his own.

But Cheonso was not someone who came out clenching his fists.

“Cheonso… hasn’t broken through the wall to first-rate yet.”

“It will be hard for him to win.”

Lower even than Cheonjeong.

Soyak gave a small nod.

She saw it the same way.

Cheonjeong now stood at the far end of the road from first-rate to Apex.

He would soon meet the wall.

By contrast, Cheonso had just run up against the wall to second-rate.

Even if he fought Cheonjeong rather than Cheonju, he wouldn’t be able to win.

Only, Soyak turned her gaze toward the tent Cheonso had emerged from.

A middle-aged master in his forties snickered as he watched his great-grand-disciple.

Chapter 17

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