“...Don’t you think this is excessive?”

Jeong Yeon-shin broke the silence with a measured question. Fifty silver nyang alone was an extraordinary reward.

With that sum, he could easily sustain a household and live idly for years. But the rewards listed beyond that? They were in a league of their own.

‘Celestial Silk robes and martial arts from the Sword Corps Captain…’

The phrase priceless treasure came to mind—something so valuable that no price could measure its worth.

Clothes that couldn’t be torn by blades and martial arts at the pinnacle of the martial world were among such treasures.

Even the top-tier elixirs, referred to as premium goods by Ipwang Fortress, fell into the same category.

“Excessive? Not at all.”

The Grand Administrator leaned back slightly, his large shoulders relaxing.

“If it were only the Yongbong Gathering, then perhaps. But the real merit lies in the annihilation of the Hwangbo branch with just three Blue Rank warriors. I hear it was possible thanks to your unique techniques. Considering how valuable each Blue Rank warrior is, the minimal division of power to take down a branch of their main family is a significant achievement.”

“...”

“Uncomfortable with praise, are you? That’s amusing.”

The administrator’s smile deepened, revealing a side to him that seemed more affable than expected.

“Shall we discuss the second point? You single-handedly destroyed six Blood Flame Cult branches in the Western Province. The blood demons in the area were eradicated. Even the local government office sent a letter, praising Ipwang Fortress as the ‘divine sword of the Great Ming.’”

His expression radiated satisfaction.

“Securing influence over local government offices is a critical mission for the fortress. A Blue Rank warrior leading the charge against branch leaders? That sets an example for others, especially when most warriors treat local officials as mere innkeepers. Rewards like this serve to spread the word about your accomplishments.”

Praising him openly, even to his face, made Jeong Yeon-shin’s expression stiffen slightly. Such high praise was unfamiliar and awkward.

Noticing this, the administrator studied him briefly before speaking again.

“This was your first foray into the martial world as a Blue Rank warrior, wasn’t it? You’ll need to get used to it. Especially as the direct disciple of the Fortress Lord.”

“...Thank you for the advice.”

“It’s nothing worth mentioning.”

The administrator chuckled softly and continued.

“Among your achievements, the Qingya Valley incident in Nanjili stands out the most. You intervened in the conflict between the Namgung Clan and the Blood Flame Cult. As a protector of the Great Ming’s laws, appointed by the royal court, you had every right to intervene in a conflict involving a heretical sect. Yet, the Namgung Clan, mere nobles, had the audacity to stand by and do nothing.”

A low hum filled the room. A faint pulse of Qi emanated from the administrator’s body, a sign of internal energy rising in tandem with his emotions.

Jeong Yeon-shin was inwardly startled. This level of Qi control placed the Grand Administrator squarely in the realm of Black Rank warriors.

“Those base-born scoundrels did nothing but watch? That’s typical of the worldly noble clans that call themselves leaders of the martial world. They see Ipwang Fortress as a thorn in their side. After all, our protection of the common people rarely aligns with their pursuit of power and profit.”

His voice carried an undeniable weight, rich with strength and conviction.

“They sought to stain your hands with blood, hoping to eliminate a promising young talent who might one day become the fortress’s sword of justice.”

The administrator’s face, shadowed by his anger, was terrifying even as he recounted past events.

Jeong Yeon-shin accepted a tea cup from the attendant, waiting patiently for the administrator’s temper to cool.

The tea, which was supposedly the rare and valuable Dragon Well Tea, tasted unremarkable to him.

‘I must not have the knack for tea appreciation.’

He realized, not for the first time, that such leisurely hobbies didn’t suit his life.

“My apologies for the outburst,” the administrator finally said, bowing his head slightly.

“While you did kill many blood demons, the fortress gained something far more valuable. This incident has given us a pretext to use the Namgung Clan as a vanguard against the Thirteen Heavens of the Martial Underworld.”

“You mean you’ll be seeking their cooperation?”

Jeong Yeon-shin asked cautiously, but the administrator shook his head.

“No. We’ve gained a justification to coerce them with force. Oppressing orthodox factions requires careful consideration of public opinion, but this incident allows us to remove the Namgung Clan’s leadership under the guise of justice. Those who stood by while you fought will be dealt with according to martial law.”

Even with his Qi now settled, the administrator’s smile was chilling.

In this context, martial law was clear—it was the law of the strong. The Namgung Clan would be crushed under the guise of rectifying their betrayal, then used as a battering ram against the Thirteen Heavens.

‘Using the grudge of the Fortress Lord’s direct disciple as a pretext.’

Jeong Yeon-shin felt a chill, as though winter had descended upon him. Even though it was his own side’s plan, the cold, calculated cruelty left him unsettled.

The administrator spoke again, his tone amused.

“Call it killing two birds with one stone, or poison curing poison—it’s all the same. They tried to kill you with the Blood Flame Cult’s sword, so it’s only fair they meet the same fate.”

Jeong Yeon-shin set down his cup.

“That, too, will be part of the mission, won’t it?”

“Yes. But it will be more of a duel than an outright war. With the justification we now have, we’ll bind the Namgung Clan in obligations and cut down only the leadership. We’re already persuading skilled warriors from their branch families to replace them. If they refuse to cooperate, the Namgung Clan knows they’ll face complete annihilation. To preserve their family, they’ll have no choice but to comply.”

“...May I ask about the timeline?”

The administrator smiled faintly.

“It’s not something I can confirm yet. This is a mission where failure is not an option. If you wish to participate, focus on your recovery. There may even be competition for slots in the operation. The fortress’s warriors are eager for glory and won’t pass up a chance to confront Namgung martial arts. There could be a selection process based on skill.”

“Thank you for the explanation. And the matter of the Blood Flame Cult’s main base…?”

“It’s late. Let’s settle the documented achievements with a written report for now. As for the rewards, those may be beyond my authority.”

With a soft smile, the administrator dismissed him courteously.

“The silver and Celestial Silk robes will be sent to Ma Gwang-ik Hall shortly. As for the Sword Corps Captain, we’ll issue a command signed by the Fortress Lord once he returns. What about the elixirs?”

“I’ll take them once my recovery is complete.”

“Very well. We’ll store them in the Medicine Hall under your name. And one more thing…”

As Jeong Yeon-shin stood, the administrator stopped him, a subtle smile on his lips.

“As a word of caution, it would be wise to keep your distance from the Ma Clan for the time being.”

“…May I ask why?”

Jeong Yeon-shin stared at him, his expression unreadable. For someone to casually speak ill of his maternal family, it felt like a line had been crossed.

The administrator waved a hand.

“Don’t misunderstand—it’s advice given with good intentions. Prominent families like the Ma Clan often have internal divisions. Your recent exploits in the martial world seem to have stirred up quite the storm among them. Since it’s not my family, I’ll say no more.”

“…Thank you for the advice.”

Jeong Yeon-shin bowed slightly in acknowledgment.

The administrator returned the bow with a wry smile, scratching his head. His demeanor, at odds with his stature and martial strength, seemed natural.

“Take care.”

He sent Jeong Yeon-shin off with a broad grin.

***

On the Way Back

There were five days left until the summer solstice. This year’s fifteenth of June felt closer to early summer than late spring, and the twilight was already setting in.

A streak of crimson sunlight faintly touched the hem of his sleeve, painting his thoughts with the melancholy hues of dusk.

‘The Ma Clan… Still holding me back. To hear someone else warning me to be cautious of my maternal family…’

Jeong Yeon-shin adjusted his robe slightly, bracing against the chill wind that brushed his cheek and traced down to his collarbone.

Every time he returned from a mission, he had to be mindful of his conduct.

It was an exhausting obligation. There wasn’t enough time in his day to focus solely on his contributions and reputation, let alone deal with these unnecessary entanglements.

‘I made it clear to my grandfather.’

He had told the elder not to use their blood ties to manipulate him. After defeating Ma Se-yeon in a duel, he had drawn the line unequivocally.

Yet, his lineage had become known during the formal recognition ceremony.

The way people looked at Jeong Yeon-shin had changed.

He was no longer just a provincial martial artist who could build his own legacy. Now, he was seen as a prodigy inevitably tied to the Ma Clan’s ambitions and reputation.

Even Ma Gwang-ik’s earlier mention of feuds among noble families reflected this reality.

This couldn’t go on.

Family matters were never confined to the individual. He could easily find himself dragged into disputes over feuds unrelated to him.

He didn’t have much time left. It was best to distance himself from such nuisances now.

A solution came to mind.

And then—

“Yeon-shin!”

A sharp voice called out as a handsome boy came running toward him, clearly in a hurry.

The familiar white-robed figure moved with incredible speed, a display of mastery in Lightness Skill. It was none other than Ma Se-in, a distant relative who had lost to him twice in battle.

Unforgettable.

‘Ma Se-in.’

The grandson of his grandfather, Ma Yeon-jeok, and the successor to the Ma Clan.

One of the very people causing him trouble had appeared. Fate, it seemed, had thrown this connection back at him.

Perhaps something urgent had happened, given that Ma Se-in had come straight to find him on the same day Jeong Yeon-shin had regained consciousness. Could Ma Jun, that overly talkative uncle, have let something slip?

It was nearing the end of the day.

Jeong Yeon-shin stepped forward, speaking calmly.

“What brings you here?”

“Just… give me a moment to catch my breath…”

Ma Se-in stopped three steps away, trying to steady his breathing. Despite his superior internal energy reserves, the boy seemed genuinely exhausted, a testament to how far and fast he had run.

Jeong Yeon-shin patiently waited for three exhales before prompting him again.

“Now, speak.”

“Well, um…”

For someone normally brimming with pride, Ma Se-in hesitated, shifting awkwardly under Jeong Yeon-shin’s gaze.

Jeong Yeon-shin tilted his chin slightly, urging him silently.

After a resigned sigh, Ma Se-in finally said it.

“The elders of the clan… they want to see you.”

“The elders?”

“Yes, along with my mother…”

“Let’s go. Now should be fine, considering how urgent you seem.”

Ma Se-in looked genuinely surprised, as though he hadn’t expected such an immediate agreement.

The two of them began walking together.

Jeong Yeon-shin asked as they walked, “The clan isn’t outside the fortress, is it?”

“No, the main house isn’t. Most of our people are staying here in the fortress now, following my grandfather. They’ve even taken an entire wing for themselves to support his bid for the position of Elder Council Leader.”

Ma Se-in’s tone had softened considerably. He had been like this ever since the recognition ceremony.

They exchanged a few more words along the way, though Ma Se-in couldn’t help stealing glances at Jeong Yeon-shin’s profile.

“I heard you sustained significant internal injuries,” Ma Se-in eventually remarked.

“And?”

“But your Qi feels the same as before. Weaker, yes, but still… How is that possible? Or did you somehow grow stronger in that short time?”

“More importantly,” Jeong Yeon-shin deflected, “this summons—does my grandfather know about it?”

“...No. He’s in the Fortress Lord’s office right now.”

It seemed even Ma Se-in found the situation odd, though he didn’t seem to know the details.

A faint smile played on Jeong Yeon-shin’s lips.

“You’ve got a strong arm,” he said, almost casually, referring to Ma Se-in’s martial prowess. His mind briefly flashed to the True Wall Form, an advanced move in Ultimate Polar Flower Fist, a skill he had adapted for his own use.

“They say noble families have dozens of martial techniques. Are the ones taught to retainers different from yours?”

“Well, naturally.”

“Interesting.”

And with that, Jeong Yeon-shin said no more, falling silent as they approached the wing where the Ma Clan’s leaders were staying.

Ma Se-in gestured to the guards stationed at the gates, who stepped aside without question.

“This is it,” he said.

Even the main gate was enormous, comparable to the grandeur of Ma Gwang-ik’s hall.

The clan had merely borrowed this space, yet it still exuded immense authority, a testament to their power.

As soon as Jeong Yeon-shin stepped inside, he felt their gazes.

Not one or two, but dozens of eyes were on him, each glance seemingly laden with Qi, pressing down like a palpable weight.

Clearly, meeting him today had been their intention all along.

The front yard had been turned into a gathering space, where dozens of individuals were seated.

There was an air of sophistication unique to noble families, and even at a glance, none of them seemed ordinary.

Among them, one figure stood out above the rest.

“You.”

A middle-aged woman, draped in a black silk gown, spoke with crimson-painted lips.

Her entire figure was wrapped in silk dyed as dark as lacquer. She had the face of a beauty, exuding dignity and elegance.

She radiated an aura that was almost tangible, as if she had mastered some special internal art. Her gaze held an imperious quality, as though she looked down on the entire world.

“You’re the child with the surname Jeong, aren’t you?”

She spoke from her elevated seat, deliberately emphasizing the surname Jeong, revealing a hint of her intentions.

Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t answer. Instead, he turned his head toward Ma Se-in.

“Is that your mother?”

“...Yes,” Ma Se-in answered reluctantly, clearly uncomfortable.