“Do you have any questions about the nature of the evaluation?”

“No.”

“You must be curious about the test method. It’s simple.”

The examiner said in an indifferent tone.

“Perform the fastest sword draw you can. One strike is enough. I will observe and judge.”

‘That’s simple.’

Jeong Yeon-shin felt relieved.

He had expected there would be a complicated method.

Heon Won-chang looked anxious, but judging one’s skill based on a single sword strike seemed both narrow-minded and generous at the same time.

In Jeong Yeon-shin’s experience, there were all kinds of variables in real combat.

The first test seemed to be just a screening process.

“Shall I begin now?”

He asked, taking a few steps back. The examiner nodded.

“I, I’ll go first!”

It was Heon Won-chang. He looked at Jeong Yeon-shin apologetically and mouthed:

‘I’m too nervous. Sorry.’

Jeong Yeon-shin, who didn’t mind much, nodded.

Heon Won-chang took the place where the boy had stepped back and gripped his sword.

He glanced at the examiner, who had his arms folded as if telling him to draw his sword at any time, then set his expression seriously and took his stance.

It wasn’t an exceptionally skilled stance, but Jeong Yeon-shin detected the waves of energy rising from his entire body.

‘He’s strong.’

It was a well-honed aura. Stronger than any of the wandering swordsmen he had seen on the way to Xiangyang.

‘When energy is refined, there’s no waste. You can put all your strength into the sword.’

As Jeong Yeon-shin was thinking this, Heon Won-chang drew his sword and the air split.

“Wow! That martial artist is different.”

“I couldn’t see it.”

“I only saw a white blur.”

The spectators exclaimed in admiration. There were even gamblers quickly placing bets on whether he would pass.

“Not bad.”

The examiner nodded.

A bright smile bloomed on Heon Won-chang’s face, and the examiner took his number tag.

Heon Won-chang returned to Jeong Yeon-shin’s side and whispered.

“For this first test, if that martial artist takes your tag, you pass. If he tells you to return it to the reception desk, you fail.”

“How many times have you passed the first test?”

“Hmm. The second test, the martial arts match, was always the problem.”

“Is there a third test?”

“An interview with the Lord of Desolate Sect. Some martial artists come to Xiangyang just for that. To gain insight and enlightenment.”

“I see.”

Jeong Yeon-shin nodded and stepped forward.

Those who had shown contrasting reactions to the results of the bet on Heon Won-chang, and even those who had looked skeptical, now showed questioning reactions.

“Was he really an applicant?”

“He’s a young swordsman with spirit.”

“Well, if he’s from out of town, when else would he get to demonstrate his sword technique in front of a Desolate Sect martial artist?”

“Even hearing a word of advice would be a valuable experience.”

Among the murmuring crowd, the gamblers didn’t even place bets.

Some had smiles as if watching a child’s play.

Jeong Yeon-shin silently placed his hand on his sword and looked at the examiner.

He nodded with an indifferent expression.

“You may begin.”

The next moment.

“……”

Nothing happened.

The only difference was that Jeong Yeon-shin’s sword was now drawn.

It was as if the scene had been cut between blinking. Only the examiner nodded with a stiff face.

“The future of the Desolate Sect is here.”

An incredible compliment. The spectators and Heon Won-chang reacted as if they couldn’t believe what they had heard.

Some gasped or looked at the person next to them as if they had misheard, especially Heon Won-chang’s dumbfounded expression was quite a sight.

Jeong Yeon-shin was surprised for a different reason.

‘Even I who used the sword couldn’t see it.’

It seemed the examiner had seen the lightning-fast sword technique that was invisible even to his own eyes.

Was this what true eye technique was? They said reading an opponent’s attack was also martial arts.

“Give me your tag.”

“…Yes.”

“Hmm. Number thirteen.”

The examiner received the tag and stroked the characters as if engraving them in his mind.

His eyes, intently observing Jeong Yeon-shin, seemed to hold various intertwined emotions.

Soon, as if resigned to something, he closed his eyes once and nodded. It meant to leave.

“Then.”

Jeong Yeon-shin sheathed his sword, cupped his fists in salute, and left the training ground.

Heon Won-chang, who had been standing stiffly, hurriedly followed.

The glances from nearby were slightly annoying.

“What is it?”

“Um, are you… perhaps the son of a famous clan?”

Jeong Yeon-shin laughed at the cautious politeness.

“What difference would that make? I thought once you enter the Desolate Sect, only martial arts skills, talent, and effort matter.”

“Oh… you truly intend to pass the Desolate test.”

“Isn’t that why we came? Not just me, but you too, Brother Heon Won.”

“…That’s right. You’re correct.”

Heon Won-chang closed his mouth.

He was staying at a different inn, and after being silent for a while, he said goodbye and disappeared.

Jeong Yeon-shin hoped to pass the second test together with that kind and talkative man.

* * *

The intervals between the first and second tests were one week and two months respectively.

By the time Jeong Yeon-shin passed the first test, there were about three weeks left until the second test.

During that time, he practiced the Jeong Family Dynamic Technique, the Swift Sword Technique, and the energy manipulation method he named Fate Conquering Scripture.

He practiced all three in the mountains outside the town where the inn was located, and focused on theFate Conquering Scripture when he returned to his room.

While creating new martial arts was good, he thought it was right to hone his existing skills before facing actual combat.

Martial arts match. Comparing the martial arts one has learned against an opponent.

The final Iphwang test was said to end with demonstrating one’s martial prowess along with the opponent.

Jeong Yeon-shin devoted all his remaining time solely to martial arts, and during that time, Heon Won-chang never visited.

-Murmuring.

And now.

“This is…”

Inside Desolate Sect, there were dozens of magnificent and splendid halls.

All the martial artists passing by exuded a stern aura.

A cluster of numerous halls situated next to the spectacular natural scenery with a horizon visible on the other side of the world.

While moving according to the servant’s guidance, Jeong Yeon-shin saw others in the same situation as him.

“This is truly the world’s finest place to learn martial arts…”

“I heard white uniforms are for junior martial artists, but how can their aura be so powerful?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Even wearing white guarantees a promising future.”

“I wonder what kind of hidden dragon will emerge this time…”

“I, Cho Mulyang of Hangsan, will be the dragon that now stretches its wings!”

They seemed to be strangers but were conversing well, and then Jeong Yeon-shin saw a familiar face.

He too seemed to have spotted Jeong Yeon-shin and approached with a glad expression.

“Young Master Jeong! You seem to have grown taller!”

“Brother Heon Won, you look well too.”

“I’ve made some small achievements.”

Heon Won-chang, still wearing the noticeable yellow dragon hero’s headband on his forehead, stroked his upper lip.

“But still, you never know. In this test, winning isn’t important. They say it’s enough to impress the Desolate Sect masters watching the matches, even if you only fight once out of two matches… That’s the hardest part.”

“You mean one can fail even after winning a match.”

“Exactly. Moreover, today the examiners’ standards are bound to be even higher.”

“Why is that?”

“Haven’t you heard the rumors? They say the White Qilin will appear at today’s Desolate test.”

“The White Qilin, you mean from the Namgung clan?”

“That’s right. I heard he’s already famous in South Zhili. They say before turning fifteen, he annihilated a notorious bandit group, and killed the Slaughtering Killer, a sword master of the dark path… Around eighteen, they say he defeated all the later-born disciples at the Dragon Phoenix Gathering of the Eight Great Clans. The Dragon Phoenix Gathering is where later-born disciples from famous clans socialize, and since no one denied such rumors, it might be true, don’t you think?”

This time, even Jeong Yeon-shin couldn’t hide his surprise.

Such strength indeed deserved the title of Qilin, a legendary creature.

The reality of the murim, which he had only heard snippets of in Xinye County, felt so close now that he truly felt he had entered the world of martial arts.

“Isn’t a later-born disciple of the Namgung clan already sufficient? If he has martial prowess too, why come to Desolate Sect?”

“Because he’s an illegitimate son. He can’t become the clan leader.”

Heon Won-chang leaned in close and whispered, covering his mouth.

Jeong Yeon-shin frowned at the breath he felt on his ear and quickly moved away.

Heon Won-chang giggled as if he had never felt any distance or shown respect.

“They say the Lord of Desolate Sect, being of a noble lineage, has kept his youthful appearance for two hundred years, but even rising to the rank of group leader would be no less enviable than being the leader of one of the Eight Great Clans. The prestige might even be greater. After all, it’s a position that coordinates the order of the murim from the center of the Central Plains.”

“Was it to that extent?”

“Isn’t it natural since Desolate Sect is involved in every major event in the murim? Are you from some village rather than a clan?”

Jeong Yeon-shin kept his mouth shut and walked.

Heon Won-chang followed with a grin, looking at him as if he were a cute younger brother.

“Please wait here. When your name is called, proceed to the training ground.”

The attendant left behind about thirty aspiring entrants and departed.

The place where they stopped was a small garden behind a huge training ground.

There was another one on the opposite side, where people were also gathered.

Green sprouts rising up along with colorful flower petals blooming here and there. However, no one paid attention to the scenery.

Each had their own posture, some standing with eyes closed in mental training, others blankly staring into empty space.

Jeong Yeon-shin waited while circulating his Jeong Family Dynamic Technique with subtle movements.

Eventually, one person from each side started being called out.

They engaged in martial arts matches in the center of a circle formed by seated Desolate Sect martial artists.

After the fight, those who went north had shoulders high enough to pierce the sky, while those returning south were drooping.

“How can they be like that…”

Heon Won-chang again couldn’t hide his anxiety.

“Among the martial artists who passed the first test of separating the wheat from the chaff, there’s probably no one who hasn’t been called a prodigy. I too was called a martial arts genius in our county.”

His attempt to ease the tension by joking was almost pitiful.

“How cruel and difficult it is to be selected among such prodigies. And to have to demonstrate martial arts in the midst of Desolate Sect masters, no less.”

“Isn’t it exciting?”

“Huh?”

“Being recognized for your talent is thrilling. At least it’s twice as good as being dismissed as a weirdo.”

“Young Master…”

As Heon Won-chang was about to say something, it was then.

“Namyang of Henan Province! Jeong Yeon-shin of Xinye County, come forward!”

An attendant who ran to the garden called out.

“I hope to see you again. Here, in Desolate Sect.”

Jeong Yeon-shin, with his left hand on the sword at his left waist, walked out of the garden with leisurely steps. Heon Won-chang’s shout rang out from behind.

“Let’s make sure we do!”

* * *

The first martial arts match was trivial.

The opponent was a strange person who spoke oddly, as if he had trained alone in some small village.

They say there are the Four Books and Five Classics in the world, and various sects each have their own teachings, but most martial artists who haven’t properly learned orthodox martial arts lived in their own world.

The only zeitgeist was survival of the fittest.

There were all kinds of people in the Central Plains, making it impossible to guess others’ values and behaviors.

“So you’re the moth frantically fluttering, not knowing your destination is despair!”

The swordsman said with a grin, showing his yellow teeth.

As soon as the match began, Jeong Yeon-shin struck the opponent’s mouth with his scabbard.