Hooo....

A bamboo hat pulled low: Snow-Plum Sabre. Across from him stood Mount Hua’s disciple, Jin Ye.

Yu Gang looked at the old sect uniform beneath that brim—clothes he would never wear again.

He had loved that uniform.

Maybe because he’d spent his childhood wandering the streets alone, always on the outside.

Becoming a Mount Hua disciple—wearing the same uniform as his seniors and juniors, eating the same meals, learning the same martial arts—living together like that had always made him happy.

So he was always smiling.

So he always got along with his brothers-in-arms.

For a child’s life that had been only darkness, Mount Hua had been a fence and a light. That was why he felt boundless gratitude to No Mun for bringing him in.

FLAP—

The banner snapped; the bout began.

TADADADAT—!

Jin Ye sprinted for Yu Gang.

Yu Gang lifted his eyes to the pavilion, to Mount Hua’s Sect Leader, No Un.

The man who, when Yu Gang left the sect, should have abolished his dantian by law—yet left it intact and, in the end, protected him.

He was watching this match.

For a long time Yu Gang had wondered why Mount Hua’s elders had left his dantian.

At last he had an answer.

They wanted me strong. They wanted me to keep growing as a martial man.

They didn’t want that incident to make him lay down his arts.

If so, how could he repay that grace?

Grow strong—and stronger still.

Live up to the faith they’d placed in him. Become a worthy martial man.

And prove he had grown this well.

That was why he had trained through four years of agony that would have killed him—and didn’t die.

Ssssss....

Sunlight seemed to seethe up around Yu Gang.

At the shift in his momentum, a pale pink qi rose from Jin Ye as she ran.

Mount Hua swordwork.

White-Current Plum Blossom Sword!

Like white petals drifting along a river, her sword path poured toward Yu Gang.

Her blade—like her—was steady and forthright.

Watching the sword of a junior who had grown splendidly, Yu Gang drew his saber.

WHOOOUM—

He cut into the flowing wave of blossoms.

Ouyang Do’s proprietary saber method.

Red Sun Saber Form.

Harsh, blazing saber-qi surged upstream along the current of the White-Current Plum Blossom Sword.

The whirling petals were slowly devoured by the red glow and began to lose force.

“!”

Jin Ye’s brow tightened as her sword-qi was swallowed, as if by flame.

KANG— KAKANG!

She was being pressed.

A fierce, storming blaze came down like a squall.

A will that would not retreat.

A spirit that looked ready to swallow anything that barred its path.

But why?

Why did this unfamiliar yet overpowering qi feel so... familiar?

Why did it—

—press her so sorrowfully?

No. Don’t be dragged by it.

Like this, she’d lose before doing anything at all.

Steady yourself.

It’s still immature, but—do it.

Jin Ye leveled her breath.

Her sword tip moved as if slow—yet quicker than ever.

Phantom Blade.

Her edge traced afterimages.

Heat against heat.

Outpouring against outpouring.

Mount Hua’s rising-blade canon—

Twenty-Four-Hand Plum Blossom Sword. Third Form: Plum Blossom Spits Radiance.

From the white petals Jin Ye wove, a scorching breath welled out.

It spilled forth in a gush and reignited a stroke that had seemed to lose its power.

It was heat different from Yu Gang’s—yet heat all the same—so it did not fade easily.

Riding that swell, Jin Ye moved to chain the fourth and fifth forms of the Twenty-Four-Hand Plum Blossom Sword—

“The attempt is good, but you’re still slow.”

“!”

WHOOOM— WHOOOOOOSH—

The saber wind Yu Gang raised smothered Jin Ye’s blossoming radiance in an instant.

Then his saber tilted upward, drawing a slow circle toward the sky.

In that brief moment, Jin Ye saw the blade lined in a straight with the sun.

As if the sun’s force were flowing down into his saber.

Ouyang Do’s proprietary saber method—

Splendid Sun Saber Canon.

The shadow of a sun-laden saber fell toward Jin Ye.

And in that instant, she heard Snow-Plum Sabre murmur, low and clear:

“Sorry.”

The tournament’s third quarterfinal.

Snow-Plum Sabre—victory.

****

“Namgoong Seolhwa—victory!”

Her semifinal opponent was Shaolin’s Hyeon.

They had already crossed hands when she’d visited Shaolin; truthfully, the match was easier than the one with Silver-Flash Spear.

“When I heard you would enter the tournament, Lady, I already foresaw the result.”

Hyeon accepted his defeat without a ripple.

At Shaolin he had seen Seolhwa’s true face.

He knew she was a master even his own teacher, Do Ryang, could not face; he had no regrets.

“Only, I had hoped to endure your attacks a little longer than before.”

“You have grown stronger. More than then.”

“Have I?”

It was no courtesy.

Hyeon was far stronger than when she’d seen him at Shaolin.

Reaching the semifinals in a tournament like this was impossible without real skill.

In age and training allotment, he was plenty talented.

It was only that Seolhwa was a monster.

“I’ll pray for your championship.”

“Thank you.”

With that, Seolhwa’s place in the final was sealed.

After the overwhelming might she showed against Silver-Flash Spear, none doubted she would advance.

So she wins, in the end.

As expected—Namgoong Seolhwa, the Sword Emperor’s granddaughter.

Overwhelming might.

A martial talent granted by heaven.

Those gasps and honorifics followed her as naturally as breath.

What shocked people more, in truth, was—

“Snow-Plum Sabre—victory!”

—the masked saber man’s advance to the final.

“Snow-Plum Sabre beat Tang Hojin in the end. Jegal Clan, Mount Hua, the Tang Clan—he’s cut through them all. Who on earth is he?”

“I said from the start he’d reach the final! I put my whole fortune [N O V E L I G H T] on that guy! Hahaha!”

“Rumor says he’s a peerless killer. Can someone like that be allowed to win?”

“Come on. This is the Martial Alliance of the world—do you think they didn’t vet the contestants?”

The streets of Wuhan buzzed with the finalists: Namgoong Seolhwa, and the mysterious saber man, Snow-Plum Sabre.

Before the tournament, rumors about the Sado Union had roiled the world—but those had long since gone quiet.

“That child has grown much.”

Seolhwa looked up from the roast duck being set on her plate to Namgoong Mucheon, who was passing the dish.

“You knew?”

Namgoong Mucheon chuckled.

“How could I not? I wouldn’t fail to recognize Elder Ouyang Do’s qi.” 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

When Mucheon’s name first began to resound, Ouyang Do was already a man who ruled the rivers and lakes.

“In my younger days, I even learned a little from the elder.”

More than anything, it was Ouyang Do who shattered his bias that the sword was the greatest weapon.

The one who taught him the truth: what matters isn’t the weapon, but the martial man.

“He hid under a bamboo hat, but he looked exactly the same as four years ago.”

Namgoong Cheongun, listening beside them, laughed as well.

“He grew well.”

Seolhwa glanced at Cheongun with a look that said, Father, you too?

Both already knew Snow-Plum Sabre was Yu Gang.

Thinking of Yu Gang, who tried so hard to hide his identity beneath a bamboo hat, Seolhwa let a small laugh slip.

“Well, thinking on it, I recognized him straightaway too.”

A single bamboo hat couldn’t hide that many entanglements. A bit of a stretch, indeed.

As she popped a chunk of duck Mucheon had set down into her mouth, she asked,

“Do others know? Mount Hua’s Sect Leader, for instance....”

And the other Mount Hua martial men?

“Jade-Plum Sword seems to know.”

“And Chief Yu Pyo—no, the Suzak Division Lord—looked to have recognized him as well. Elder No Seon, too.”

No Seon was Mount Hua’s former grand elder, now a Martial Alliance elder.

Seolhwa, chewing duck, scratched her chin.

Yu Gang probably still thinks no one’s recognized him, right?

Idiot.

Munch, munch.

She swallowed with a gulp.

On her plate, Cheongun had already set down a split-and-cleaned steamed lobster.

Seolhwa looked to Namgoong Mucheon.

“Will it be all right?”

“What will?”

“Those of us who know the circumstances are different, but outwardly he’s an expelled disciple.”

If it became known that Snow-Plum Sabre was Mount Hua’s expelled disciple, the faction heads and elders who hadn’t known would protest fiercely.

“It will be fine. We already know Mount Hua’s past. And the child is now Elder Ouyang Do’s personal disciple. In terms of lineage, he’s the same generation as I am—who would dare say anything?”

Seolhwa nodded.

It was a slightly absurd situation, but since Yu Gang had become Ouyang Do’s disciple, Mucheon was right.

Being Mount Hua’s expelled disciple would be an issue—

But how will Mount Hua’s Sect Leader answer...

Tapping her chopsticks, Seolhwa frowned down at her plate.

At some point, Mucheon and Cheongun had piled her dish high with food.

Seolhwa leveled a calm, sinking look at grandfather and father.

With no space left, they were still ferrying food onto her plate.

“What are you two doing?”

Cheongun set a heap of crab meat on her plate and said,

“Our girl’s got the final tomorrow—we have to feed you well. Then you’ll have strength.”

Mucheon, holding pieces in place with aerial capture lest they tumble off, nodded.

“Stamina and spirit begin with a good meal. Come, eat. It’s about to fall.”

Seolhwa stared at them, mouth slightly open.

Neither showed the least sign of stopping.

“I’m full.”

Both men spun to her, wide-eyed.

It was the first time she’d ever said she was full with food in front of her.

“I don’t want any more.”

Their faces went blank with shock.