CLATTER CLATTER.

A small carriage was rattling its way toward the foot of Mount Hua.

It was not huge and imposing like Namgung Clan’s.

Its pale, gentle colors and soft curves…

…paired with its small size, gave off a modest, graceful charm.

“We’ll be there soon, Young Lady.”

“I told you not to call me that, Jang Yul.”

“Ha. I’ve been serving you since I was thirty and you were six, Young Lady.”

“...And what does that have to do with anything?”

A thin blind woven from slats of pure white birch hung down.

Beyond it, a bright yet composed voice could be heard.

Even when she whined, she could not hide the innate bearing of someone born to a noble house.

“By the way, we didn’t run into a single bandit on the way. I’m not sure if I should call that fortunate...”

“So you were bored, then?”

“Honestly, Father said your martial arts were that formidable, so I was curious.”

Jang Yul.

Coachman and bodyguard.

Still holding the reins, he let out a rough laugh.

“That’s only because the family head overestimates the worthless skills of this Jang fellow.”

“If Father were that lacking in judgment, the Jegal Clan would’ve gone under long ago.”

A bloodline said to produce the brightest minds in the Central Continent.

That was the Jegal Clan.

The house known as the gathering of Zhuge Liang’s descendants.

Though their own martial strength was low, that was no flaw.

They did not temper their bodies at all...

...because they cultivated a special type of martial art that honed the brain, the upper core, instead.

“So, how do you think this spar will turn out?”

“Who knows... We’ll have to see it for ourselves.”

They were people whose voices carried weight even in the Demon Cult subjugation.

Miracle Strategist Jegal Hyo and the team of strategists he led.

How many losses had they prevented in advance and pointed out?

The Martial Alliance hid them as coachmen, as ordinary warriors, or even in the undergrowth and had them watch the battles against the demon leaders.

Within only a few exchanges, the Jegal strategists would find their enemies’ weak points...

...and the Alliance masters, receiving those weak points via sound transmission, would behead the Demon Cult’s giants one by one.

And recently, it had been the same.

The Demon Cult was tenacious; even fifty years later, remnants still remained.

...Of course, one could hardly say there had been no sacrifices along the way.

****

“We’ve received word that the Jegal Clan’s Inner Pavilion Lord will be arriving soon.”

“The Inner Pavilion Lord?”

At Myungjeok’s report, Jeongyang’s eyebrows rose.

Right, the stated reason would no doubt be to congratulate the One-Branch Gathering.

The Jegal Clan was closer to strategists than warriors, closer to merchants than swordsmen.

But what was truly strange was how fixed the timing of their visits seemed.

They definitely had not come last year.

The year before that, they had.

And every time they did, they left some kind of gift with Eunsong.

“That girl and Eunsong must be hiding something from us.”

“Shall I dig into it, Sect Leader?”

Jeongyang looked down at Myungjeok, quietly mulling it over.

Plum Blossom Sword Lord Myungjeok.

His disciple, one of the figures who made up the One Sovereign, Three Emperors, Seven Lords.

Not once had he ever betrayed Jeongyang’s expectations.

“Do it. Just make sure you don’t get caught.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“And the underground dungeon beneath South Peak... we’ll go there after the One-Branch Gathering is completely finished.”

“Understood.”

Myungjeok cupped his fist and bowed his head.

Jeongyang returned the salute with a wave and stepped out of Red-Tile Pavilion.

“You’ve all been waiting quite a while, I’m sure.”

At his greeting, everyone gathered in the tents waved their hands dismissively.

“The child who will be entering the final match just spent a great deal of inner power, so I wished to have you wait a little for their sake. However, something else has come up, and it seems we’ll have to delay things by about another two hours...”

Namgung Hyeong raised his hand to ask a question.

“What is the matter, Sect Leader? May we be of assistance?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. It’s simply that the Jegal Clan’s Inner Pavilion Lord will be arriving.”

The Jegal Clan’s Inner Pavilion Lord.

The Inner Pavilion was the position that oversaw a house’s internal affairs.

She had silently stopped coming as of last year, so they had assumed she would not visit anymore.

“...It seems the Inner Pavilion Lord is rather capricious.”

“I thought she was a modest young lady.”

“And she can’t be all that soft either. She is the Inner Pavilion Lord, after all.”

The gathered merchant-house chairmen traded comments like that.

Jeongyang cleared his throat lightly to draw everyone’s attention back.

“It wouldn’t do for the Inner Pavilion Lord to come all this way and be unable to see the final match, would it? So I’d like to ask you all to wait just a little longer... Would you indulge this old man’s request?”

“Our Namgung Clan will gladly wait.”

Namgung Clan was the Sword Sovereign’s house.

It was where the Alliance Leader who ruled and dominated this Central Continent of the martial world hailed from.

With him agreeing, there was no merchant here reckless enough to object.

****

“Master, I heard the Jegal Clan is coming?”

Cheongak knew a lot, just as there were a lot of places he dashed around like a wild thing.

He was especially quick when it came to circulating rumors like this.

“The Jegal Clan... Did they say the Inner Pavilion Lord is coming?”

“Yeah. How did you know?”

Eunsong let out a deep sigh.

Even though he had gone out into the wind and aired out his heart as much as he could.

The moment he heard the Jegal Clan’s name again, his troubles welled back up.

“This is going to be troublesome.”

“The Jegal Clan? Or the Inner Pavilion Lord?”

“Both.”

Cheongak tilted his head.

The Jegal Clan hadn’t come to the last One-Branch Gathering.

Of course, his own master Eunsong had been wandering the martial world then as well.

At the One-Branch Gathering before that... neither he nor Cheongu had been there.

The only one who had been there then was Head Senior Cheonjeong.

“Head Senior is... huh. Already asleep.”

Cheonjeong had fallen asleep while circulating his qi to heal his internal injuries.

Waking him up now would be something only a demon would do.

Fortunately, Cheongak was not quite a little fiend on the level of a demon.

And just then, Soyak returned to the tent with Cheonju in tow.

The two of them had gone out saying she had something to say to Cheonju.

“So, did you talk about how the match is going to go?”

“Yes, Senior. We talked about that.”

Cheongak’s eyes went round at how readily Soyak admitted it.

“A-are you saying you just tried to rig a One-Branch match? With Senior Cheonju!?”

“That’s not it...”

“‘Rig a match’? What do you take me for, Cheongak.”

“No, Senior, that’s not what I meant. Anyway. Then what is it?”

Cheonju let out a snort of laughter and folded his arms.

Then he shrugged.

“We decided to fight using only swordsmanship, without inner power.”

“You’re striking all sorts of cool poses like that—can you even win like this?”

“No. I absolutely can’t win.”

Cheonju was certain of that.

She stood at a realm far beyond the level of Spring-Blooming Blossoms he had shown.

Every swing of her sword, every curve it traced through the air, was on a different level.

It meant she hadn’t simply made the plum blossoms burst into full bloom by virtue of having more inner power.

“Even so, I’m not going to lose in a disgraceful way.”

At Cheonju’s words, Cheongak tilted his head again.

Then he grinned.

“Don’t worry, Senior.”

“...What do you mean?”

“I’ve lost to her too. A lot.”

Understanding what he meant, Cheonju rubbed his face with a grim expression.

Cheongak’s skill was a step above Cheonju’s.

And yet he had never once beaten her.

“...Soyak. You really haven’t dropped a single exchange to Cheongak?”

“If we’re being precise, yes. That’s right.”

“To be exact, I’ve never even brushed her collar.”

“Good heavens above.”

In that instant, Cheonju’s confidence snapped and collapsed.

He had thought Cheongak would win three times out of ten—no, at least once in ten fights.

Soyak quietly patted the shoulder of the Cheonju who had slumped down where he sat.

“You’re an excellent swordsman, Senior.”

“That is absolutely no comfort, Soyak...”

****

The Jegal Clan’s carriage reached the foot of Mount Hua.

Just the Inner Pavilion Lord and a single coachman made up its modest entourage.

But no one looked down on them.

Eye-Gap Severing Sword Jang Yul.

A master who had cultivated his exclusive art, the Cloud-Cleaving Sword Canon, to the heights of Transcendent Apex.

His martial art was said, quite literally, to cleave the clouds...

...and his epithet came from how those he struck felt as though a blade had been driven straight between their eyes.

The strength to split a person’s head vertically, and martial arts of tremendous force.

That was how Jang Yul had made his name.

But at the moment he fell into a trap laid by the Demon Cult remnants and was put in mortal danger...

...the family head—who ordinarily should have left someone like him, who only took the role of strategist and never listened to counsel—to his fate, hurled himself into the fray.

From that day on, Jang Yul dedicated his sword to the Jegal family head.

He swore to do anything he was ordered, until the day he died.

It was a story everyone in the martial world knew.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Inner Pavilion Lord. I am Myungjeok, Head Disciple of Mount Hua. The Sect Leader has matters to attend to and is waiting at Red-Tile Pavilion.”

“Thank you. I hardly know what to do with such a warm welcome.”

Jegal Yeon bowed slightly in greeting.

Myungjeok did the same.

“I’m a bit worried I may be late and the One-Branch Gathering might already be over. How are things progressing?”

“As it happens, the victor of the semifinal is nearly drained of inner power, so we’re having everyone wait a little.”

“That’s a relief. I must hurry up and go see Mount Hua’s future.”

Jang Yul silently extended his hand.

Jegal Yeon took his hand, stepped down from the carriage, and walked up to stand before Myungjeok.

“Then, shall we go?”

“Please go on ahead. I’ll follow shortly.”

Myungjeok shot a brief glance at Jang Yul.

His gaze soon returned to Jegal Yeon.

“Very well. Do come up quickly.”

Unlike Myungjeok, Jegal Yeon did not immediately head up Mount Hua, but stopped in place.

She waited until Jang Yul had led the horses into the stable and tied up the carriage.

“...Wouldn’t it have been better if you’d gone ahead first, Young Lady?”

“How could I just leave you behind, Yul.”

“I’m sturdier than you are, Young Lady.”

Jegal Yeon let out a soft laugh.

But the laughter soon faded.

Her eyes, mixed with worry, concern, and sorrow, turned toward the heights above.

“Are you thinking about that man, Eunsong?”

“...He’s someone I owe an apology to. One I won’t be able to repay even in a lifetime.”

“It wasn’t something you need to feel sorry about, Young Lady. You only conveyed the Alliance’s orders.”

“But I knew.”

Jegal Yeon clenched her fist tight.

“...Even if I’d never passed on those orders, we would’ve resolved things there.”

Chapter 34

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