Jeong Yeon-shin, standing beside Hyeon Won-chang, heard a few soft chuckles ripple through the room in response to Hyeon’s words.
However, most simply exhaled lightly, their reactions subdued.
The black-robed masters remained stoic. Even the six elite warriors who stood beside the grandmasters as their guards didn’t show a flicker of emotion, their faces as impassive as stone. They merely gazed at Hyeon Won-chang without a word, their towering presences weighing down the atmosphere.
Each of them, like Jeong Yeon-shin, had been chosen to stand as attendants beside their respective leaders. Their auras were universally formidable.
Suddenly, the silence was broken by a clear, unrestrained laugh.
“Hahaha!”
The laugh came from a young girl seated near the vacant high seat. Twirling the spear propped against the armrest of her chair, she shook her neatly tied hair in playful abandon.
Her laughter carried no malice; it felt lighthearted, as if she simply found the situation amusing.
‘Elder Ak.’
Jeong Yeon-shin immediately recognized her.
Ak Su-rim, the Shining Spear of Ipwang Fortress, was the deputy leader of the Singeom Corps. She had accompanied him briefly during the sparring matches against the Namgung Clan.
It was said that her spiritual cultivation had reached the level of 炉火纯青 (perfection through refinement), allowing her to reverse the effects of time on her body. Despite appearing the same age as Jeong Yeon-shin, her youthful exterior belied her mastery of martial arts.
She was a true paragon among martial artists.
“Look at him! That bold fellow in white! He’s got the guts to stand next to Seomye, who dared to challenge Cheonggirin. A perfect match! Tell me, Do-un, when was the last time you were treated like this?” she teased, wiping an exaggerated tear from the corner of her eye with a slender finger.
“Let’s leave it at that,” said Ha Do-un, the Suncheon Ikju.
Though his expression had briefly flickered, he now appeared calm, his demeanor restored to the tranquil poise of a renowned swordsman. His composure, like a still mirror reflecting the heavens, epitomized the control required of a master swordsman.
A man whose swordsmanship rivaled that of the Blade of Light, Ma Gwang-ik, would have a mental fortitude that matched his martial prowess. Though his temperament could be sharp, his mind remained steadfast.
‘Suncheon Ikju... He’s already seen through me. A formidable master.’
Jeong Yeon-shin silently acknowledged.
The black-robed grandmasters were truly different. Ha Do-un’s keen senses and instinct had allowed him to pinpoint the source of the subtle technique Jeong had employed.
The Hocheo was an art of delicate deception—a sword form best kept secret. It was not a skill to be flaunted widely.
Jeong Yeon-shin steadied his nerves, tamping down the unease that had briefly surfaced. He gave nothing away, his expression calm as he moved forward with Hyeon Won-chang and took a seat beside his uncle, Ma Jin.
Ma Jin had attended the meeting as a grandmaster, still holding the title of Ma Gwang-ik.
― Was that the Sovereign’s technique?
His uncle’s voice resonated in Jeong’s mind through a subtle sound transmission.
― It’s a method of subtly manipulating qi. Impressive. To provoke a reaction from a master like Ha Do-un is no small feat.
― It’s incomplete, Jeong replied briefly.
He had been astonished when the Hocheo worked. The technique, which he had only begun to learn the day before, had managed to draw a response from a master of Ha Do-un’s caliber.
It was unexpected—a stroke of luck, nothing more.
Even so, Jeong Yeon-shin doubted the technique’s practical use in a real fight. Ha Do-un’s reaction had been too brief to yield any meaningful advantage.
‘It’s not viable in actual combat.’
Even if he successfully deployed the technique, it lacked the immersion necessary to fully deceive an opponent. The level of focus required to execute the Hocheo might be better spent on delivering another decisive move.
‘I can’t let it become another Northern Light Sword, relying on a single trick and falling behind.’
Determined to hone the technique further, Jeong resolved to dedicate more time to its refinement.
“Regardless.”
Ak Su-rim spoke up again, her tone light yet carrying a hint of amusement. Her gaze softened slightly as she looked at Jeong Yeon-shin, a spark of recognition glinting in her eyes.
“Your uncle’s recommendation to appoint you as the successor to Ma Gwang-ik was approved. If not for you, Cheongmyeong, the Gentle Sword of Azure Tranquility, was the strongest candidate. Apparently, he even conceded without a fight.”
Her casual remark carried surprising weight.
Jeong Yeon-shin paused in silence.
He hadn’t expected such developments. Cheongmyeong was regarded as the foremost swordsman of the Ma Gwang Division and had a reputation that far surpassed Jeong’s in both experience and standing. For him to yield the position without contention was unexpected.
‘What could I possibly offer to my seniors in return?’
Lowering his gaze momentarily, Jeong felt a mixture of gratitude and guilt. His closed eyes reflected the conflicting emotions stirring within him.
The six grandmasters and their six guards observed the young swordsman in silence.
Each of them had lived and fought as the blades of Ipwang Fortress, standing at the martial world’s center for decades. Their expressions varied—curiosity, disinterest, intrigue, and even amusement.
“Your achievements and character have already been vouched for by the commander himself,” Ak Su-rim continued. “He’s been quick about it too, gathering personal accounts from those who’ve worked alongside you. What remains is proving your martial prowess in front of everyone.”
Jeong nodded, acknowledging her words.
“I understand.”
“But there’s more. Advancing to black is different from the ranks below.”
“What do you mean?”
“Recognition at this level isn’t about defeating your peers. As a blue, you’ll need to be acknowledged by a black. Your level of martial enlightenment must meet the standard. And you’ll face a black master in combat for everyone to see.”
“I’m aware.”
“That’s why you’re here,” she said with a sly smile. “They’ve been gathering volunteers for your match. Apparently, everyone unanimously agreed they’d like to see what you’re capable of—how well you’ve honed your body and techniques, and how far you’ve come since your last encounters.”
Clang.
Ak Su-rim flicked the shaft of her spear with her fingers, the sharp sound echoing through the chamber. She gestured subtly toward the six grandmasters seated around her.
“They’re not ones to lift a finger unless something genuinely piques their interest. All of them.”
Jeong Yeon-shin’s gaze followed her motion, settling on the figures she pointed to.
The lithe swordsman was the Cheongcheon Grandmaster, while the gaunt, middle-aged man with piercing eyes was the Myeolseom Grandmaster.
Both had already crossed paths with Jeong during missions, though this was their first meeting since the Namgung Clan’s operations. Their stares conveyed an unspoken recognition of the young swordsman’s burgeoning potential.
“Suncheon Ikju’s personal feelings aren’t the deciding factor here.”
The Myeolseom Grandmaster was the first to break the silence.
“I oversaw Seomye’s ascension to Blue Rank. It seems only appropriate that I take responsibility for seeing it through. I’ll take on the task, on behalf of the other grandmasters.”
It was a declaration that he intended to step forward.
Three seats away, the Cheongcheon Grandmaster spoke, his voice steady.
“This junior has something to say. I believe it would be more fitting for Myeolseom Grandmaster to rest after your recent mission.”
“Hmm.”
“This Han contributed to Seomye’s achievements. During his initiation, I assisted Ma Gwang-ikju in passing down the elixir. I did not expect him to develop such astonishing martial arts from it.”
“Cheongcheon Grandmaster, speak your true intentions.”
“I wish to lessen the burden on my senior. Since I played a role in Seomye’s foundation, I hold the duty to verify whether the martial arts he developed are legitimate.”
“This is a well-known story. Was it not because you lost a bet to Ma Jin? I recall that being the sole reason.”
“......”
Cheongcheon Grandmaster intended to spar with Jeong Yeon-shin under the pretense of responsibility, while Myeolseom Grandmaster seemed similarly inclined.
Both were instrumental figures in the annihilation of the Hwangbo Clan alongside Ma Jin. Their lofty and refined manner of speech didn’t mask their underlying ambition, though it was far from distasteful. To Jeong Yeon-shin, it felt more perplexing than anything else.
‘What’s going on?’
As the young swordsman internally muttered, a voice cut through the room.
“Let’s wrap this up quickly. This isn’t a matter that should be drawn out.”
It came from a stately woman seated upright, her long, jet-black hair framing sharp, elegant features. Her calm expression lent her an air of unshakable authority.
Protruding slightly from her flowing hair were ears as sharp as blades, like a well-forged sword.
Despite her silence up until now, Jeong Yeon-shin immediately recognized her.
‘The Yullyeong Grandmaster.’
Her appearance matched the description he had received upon entering Ma Gwang Division. She was the head of the Yullyeong Corps, responsible for enforcing the laws of Ipwang Fortress.
A figure of reverence and fear, she was known for her impartiality and strict adherence to her duties. The stories of her capturing numerous individuals within the fortress were too many to count.
Martial artists within Ipwang Fortress regarded her with the same mix of respect and wariness as righteous warriors did when dealing with those of Ipwang Fortress itself.
Her voice was steady as she continued.
“If you wish for an opportunity to spar, request it privately. Suncheon Ikju should refrain from unsheathing his sword further. Once may be a mistake, but should it happen again within the Wonpyeong Ilgeom Hall, I will be forced to detain you and bring you before the main council.”
Her words were firm, leaving no room for argument.
Ha Do-un, who had been fiddling with the hilt of his sword while casting glances at Jeong Yeon-shin, froze mid-motion.
It appeared he had been on the verge of interjecting into the discussion between Cheongcheon and Myeolseom Grandmasters.
“Th-...”
Ha Do-un began to speak but quickly fell silent.
“Interfering with the proceedings is not appropriate,” the Yullyeong Grandmaster stated flatly.
“To face and receive the martial prowess of a promising junior in front of the fortress’s warriors is an honorable act. Be understanding.”
As Myeolseom and Cheongcheon Grandmasters resumed their calm exchange, Ak Su-rim’s voice rang out sharply.
Thunk.
She tapped the armrest of her chair with her index finger. The sound reverberated with an unusual depth, silencing the hall.
Her commanding aura as the most likely candidate for the next Singeom Corps Leader was evident as she took control of the meeting.
She spoke again, her voice tinged with authority.
“It seems all three of you—Myeolseom, Cheongcheon, and Suncheon Ikju—have some connection to Seomye. Whether good or bad. Even if it were Baek Girin, I’d understand the desire.”
“......”
“All of you step back. Personal feelings have no place in a promotion ceremony. That includes Ma Jin and even myself. After all, I worked with him on a mission once. Let the Yullyeong Grandmaster handle it.”
“I accept.”
The Yullyeong Grandmaster responded immediately, her face devoid of any emotion. She showed no particular interest in Jeong Yeon-shin, appearing as impartial as always.
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Perhaps it was her detachment that made her the ideal choice in Ak Su-rim’s eyes. It was a decision no one could argue with.
None of the grandmasters raised objections, not even Ha Do-un, who eventually nodded slowly.
“Any debts or grievances among grandmasters can be settled once you yourself become one.”
Ha Do-un’s gaze fell on Jeong Yeon-shin as he spoke. The boy nodded silently, shifting his focus to the Yullyeong Grandmaster.
She rose gracefully, her black sword in hand, and began to leave the room without sparing him another glance. Her ebony hair rippled like liquid obsidian as she walked, her steps unhurried and composed.
“Trouble’s brewing,” Ma Jin muttered beside him.
Jeong Yeon-shin turned his gaze toward his uncle, whose scarred face was laced with a hint of worry.
The words that followed were spoken entirely in the tone of a concerned relative.
“Why is that?”
“The Yullyeong Corps is tasked with handling the martial artists of this fortress. They have unrestricted access to every level of the Cheongeum Wugo,” Ma Jin explained. “It’s so they can study and counteract the techniques of the fortress’s warriors.”
“And?”
“I hear your martial arts have recently been classified as higher-tier. They’re now considered advanced skills, inaccessible to lower-ranked warriors. Sigukgyeong, Hwanikbo, Myeolma Cheonggangsu, Sihwa Mugukgwon, Gwanghwa Geomryu... These are techniques revered across the martial world. There’s no way the Yullyeong Corps hasn’t dissected them.”
“Ah...”
A small sound escaped Jeong Yeon-shin’s lips, his voice tinged with a faint sense of detachment.
As Ma Jin observed his nephew’s reaction, his concern deepened. Even Hyeon Won-chang, who had leaned toward Jeong Yeon-shin to listen more closely, froze mid-motion.
“Grandmaster, your nephew is smiling,” Hyeon Won-chang said, bewildered.