The newly appointed Ma Gwang-Ikju mocked the sword master of Hanam-seong. They were figures with the stature to represent their respective sects.
They were no ordinary martial artists. The clash between Ipwang Fortress and Simmuryun—two exceptional powerhouses—was a monumental event.
“...I’ve become intrigued by your sword.”
Baek Seo-goon, the Youngcheon Sword Demon, spoke quietly.
She raised her left hand lightly. It was not a formal stance, merely a casual gesture as she swept back her silver-white hair that barely covered her nape.
Her posture exuded the wildness of a warrior.
The energy flowing from her pale nape toward the temple point was palpable. It was immensely powerful.
For the first time in nearly three years.
The legendary figure, known as the Demon of the Blade, showed a hint of competition. It was a rare sight, enough to cause a brief disruption in Simmuryun’s martial force.
Jeong Yeon-shin silently gazed at her. The irregular surges of energy were thick and heavy.
It didn’t appear that she had cultivated the internal power of Seomye, yet the flow of her Qi moved freely, almost as if revealing her nature.
Her sword’s path was unpredictable.
She’s strong.
The boy reflected on what had just transpired.
Originally, Jeong Yeon-shin aimed for Baek Seo-goon’s head. He tried to sever it in an instant.
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The moment they faced each other, he sensed that she was no ordinary swordsman.
The internal injury from the confrontation at Seobong-ro and the exhaustion from his sprinting were substantial. He had no choice but to finish quickly.
But he was blocked.
Baek Seo-goon’s defense was incredible. She swiftly grabbed the extended blade, redirecting its trajectory to counterattack.
The sword path pierced like a flash of light, almost saying, If my head were split, your heart wouldn’t remain safe. It was a frighteningly sharp sword.
Jeong Yeon-shin withdrew his sword, parrying hers. He felt the heavy weight of her blade.
At that moment, the shockwave from the clash of their swords swept around Baek Seo-goon’s neck.
A true master would never layer protective Qi over their hair. The sharpness of the blade was inevitable.
The long hair that had once symbolized a martial master was now severed.
“Talking about qualifications, are you?”
Ma Gwang-Ikju, draped in black robes, spoke calmly.
Baek Seo-goon didn’t respond. She simply turned her body toward Jeong Yeon-shin, without saying a word.
The sound of her red leather shoes tapping lightly on the stone floor beneath the long crimson pants echoed through the silence.
It was filled with deep, potent energy.
“....”
Silence lingered.
The encirclement of Simmuryun's warriors froze.
Many of them were unsure, their eyes doubting what they saw. Even the powerful warriors from Daebangpa seemed uncertain.
Following So Geomhwi, Mo Yong-myeongjun and Gongsun Min also remained silent. However, their expressions were different.
The young master of Gongsun Clan cast admiring glances at Jeong Yeon-shin, while So Geomhwi watched him with caution.
They were interpreting things in completely different ways.
“I will ask again.”
Jeong Yeon-shin, facing Baek Seo-goon, parted his lips.
“Do you know the family of the head of the clan?”
Holding his sword, he stood tall, equal to the mighty forces of Simmuryun. A sight unimaginable anywhere in vast Hanam-seong.
Yet, Baek Seo-goon did not call him out for his disrespect. As a seasoned swordsman from Seomye, she seemed ready to face the black-clad warrior from Ipwang Fortress.
“I know.”
She smiled.
“I may know more about Jeong Ga-jang than you do. I’ve heard that he left his family to pursue martial arts.
His life barely compared to mine. I’ve lived a bit longer.”
“Was he a guest of the main family?”
“Who knows. Was Jeong Ga-jang from a family that would host martial masters as guests?”
With a slight smirk, Baek Seo-goon and Jeong Yeon-shin stood in a silent standoff, each in their respective attire—her dark-red robes and his black cloak.
The scene was charged with a tense stillness.
When the boy fell silent, so did the conversation, and no one dared to step in—whether it was the young warriors of the Martial Alliance or the fierce martial artists of Simmuryun.
“Not your usual words for surviving a famine.”
Only the presence of Ipwang's great hero, Hyeon Won-chang, was clearly distinct.
“A person claiming dignity with a sword.”
Hyeon Won-chang showed no regard for the encircling gaze of the warriors.
The previous arrogance of Tae Yeom-ryong seemed trivial now.
Leaving behind his surprised disciple, Hyeon Won-chang turned to speak again to his superior.
“That Youngcheon Sword Demon is a monster. If the great lord is to defeat this martial force and capture him, it’s better to make a bet that would entice him. His nature doesn’t follow conventional reasoning. If he desires something, he’ll accept it without hesitation.”
“The young master of the Baek family is sharp indeed. I thought he was just a heavy-handed brute.”
Baek Seo-goon lifted her long eyelashes in surprise. This was unexpected.
She turned her head back to Jeong Yeon-shin, her eyes scanning his figure, her gaze unsettlingly strange.
It was like appreciating the work of a gifted artist.
“You’ve grown well. I once thought your father had the potential for proper discipline. He died before he could achieve what he dreamed of, but there’s no regret in that. His death was worthwhile.”
Her expression betrayed a sense of satisfaction. She spoke as if shedding a burden, as though her own peace was found in his existence.
“....”
Jeong Yeon-shin’s lips subtly curled upward. It was a faint, small smile.
Baek Seo-goon slightly tilted her head, and behind her, Hyeon Won-chang muttered under his breath. This is pure nonsense.
But at that moment, her gaze was entirely fixed on Jeong Yeon-shin.
“It’s truly surprising. I had no idea Jeong Ga-jang’s bloodline had entered Ipwang Fortress. Your father never had the disposition of a collaborator. Was he planning to rely on your mother’s side for support?”
Baek Seo-goon remained relaxed even while facing Ma Gwang-Ikju's sword techniques, and more than that, she seemed intrigued by the boy before her.
Her words were ambiguous, almost as if talking to herself. Meanwhile, Jeong Yeon-shin felt as though she was watching his every breath, her eyes keenly observing.
Monster—she was right.
“After leaving, I didn’t realize it, but seeing you now... it feels strange. I see traces of the evil from your family in your face.”
She absentmindedly ran her fingers through her hair. The sound of energy resonating through her body echoed, signifying the overwhelming martial energy of a true master.
Her enthusiasm seemed almost to reverberate in the air as she touched the ends of her hair.
“Evil?”
Jeong Yeon-shin casually asked, referring to his father’s title. Was their relationship not close?
“If I hadn’t made my decision, I would’ve walked alongside you through Shin Ya-hyeon. I have no regrets. You’ve received all the love I couldn’t give. Your complexion looks quite good; I’m curious how you were raised.”
Baek Seo-goon flashed a smile.
Had she misunderstood Jeong Yeon-shin’s cultivation as a gift from his parents? Her assumption was off.
It was at that moment.
Unable to hold back, Hyeon Won-chang spoke up.
“The Blood Blade Sect and Simmuryun are no different. It’s like a blind man boasting.”
“Hmm?”
“The great lord may know that your family is linked to Ipwang Fortress, but what he doesn’t know are the hidden affairs of the family. That’s something he can’t claim to understand.”
Baek Seo-goon’s eyes gleamed sharply.
“Speak more.”
In an instant, all attention shifted toward Hyeon Won-chang. It wasn’t just her who turned her gaze; everyone did.
It wasn’t merely curiosity or hostility—it was the kind of information about Ma Gwang-Ikju that was too rare to ignore.
The boy’s expression grew darker.
Hyeon Won-chang is stalling. I need to think of a way to escape.
This was not the place to be playing for survival.
He walked the line between tension and relaxation, sensing the true unpredictability of Baek Seo-goon’s nature.
A temporary peace for now.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s worry was real. He was in the enemy’s midst. If he rashly started a conflict, he might lose more than just his comrades.
With over two hundred warriors and the Youngcheon Sword Demon on his side, it was not a fight to be taken lightly.
It was impossible to defeat Ma Gwang-Ikju unless he was dragged in a weakened state.
Originally, Jeong Yeon-shin had come up with a plan to block the canyon and allow his companions to escape. He thought it would be possible, at least for a short while.
No. It would be difficult.
The information given by the sword master was wrong.
The Youngcheon Sword Demon, who was said to be undefeated in Hanam, was far stronger than he had anticipated. She was stronger than he had heard.
Even though he had never seen a sword technique like Jeong Yeon-shin’s before, he managed to survive the match.
In the world of high-level martial artists, it was like giving up a move and not losing any advantage. It was hard to calculate the chances of victory easily.
There are soldiers who have mastered martial arts. I can't handle them here.
The boy slowly parted his lips.
“My background is only known to Ma Gwang-il.”
“I will remain silent.”
Hyeon Won-chang immediately closed his mouth. Even when Tae Yeom-ryong, who knew nothing, nudged him with his elbow, asking for information, he didn’t speak.
So Geomhwi and Gongsun Min also showed great interest, but they seemed to be holding back their questions due to the tense atmosphere.
Even Baek Seo-goon’s face was filled with doubt.
“Tell me. What did I miss?”
“Go back to Simmuryun and find out. That’s the purpose of the great lord.”
“The purpose of the great lord was to look at your face.”
“I don’t care about that. Stop the plundering and go back. If you don’t, half of the lives of your subordinates will be forfeit.”
Ma Gwang-Ikju, still holding his sword, spoke calmly. It was a steady threat.
The sight of him cutting off his own hair with the sword in front of Simmuryun’s warriors was clear. He didn’t speak empty words.
And it was true. The encirclement shifted for a moment. Despite the stern expressions of the trained warriors, they couldn’t fully hide their energy.
It was possible to kill Ma Gwang-Ikju. However, if this army suffered a blow close to annihilation, the achievement would be meaningless.
Baek Seo-goon stared at the boy for a moment.
She slowly parted her lips.
“You are clearly the son of Jeong Daemyeong, but you are not like him. I want to know more about your life.”
“The great lord is no longer curious about me.”
“You’re clearly not in perfect condition. How many days have you been running? Did you come here from Seobong-ro in one breath?”
“....”
“Rest for a moment. Your energy waves are sharp enough to surprise even me, but I’d prefer not to face a weakened sword.”
“Why the kindness?”
“I have a connection to Jeong Ga-jang. It’s been a long time since I abandoned him, but seeing you now stirs strange feelings. Is there anyone else who survived?”
“No.”
“You’re lying. It’s fine. I can find out later. Have you learned to drink?”
“I don’t enjoy it.”
“What a pity. With the body you’ve honed, even a good drink could be medicine for you. It would be good to at least loosen up your body.”
Suddenly, her lips curled up into a mysterious smile.
“Now that I think about it, I’ve never received a drink from the direct descendants of Jeong Ga-jang.”
“...Are you talking about a big drink here?”
“I’ll spare one life each time you take a drink. You came rushing in without care for the consequences, so it seems you value your companions. I’ll make it happen, one at a time. The subordinates should stay here.”
It was a conversation that was hard to follow with common sense. The martial world was filled with eccentric people. Youngcheon Sword Demon was one of them.
She had become a strange figure. Even after stripping away the mystique of being a high-level swordsman, she remained extraordinary.
Having grown up in a rural family, living in luxury and wielding high power for a long time, her soul had grown dull.
She had heard rumors about Jeong Ga-jang and traced the whereabouts of Seomye, which brought her to the center of the martial world.
She could not easily pass up even the smallest of feelings that stirred within her.
Like a low-ranking official who, after passing the examination, returns home to find peace after many years.
A drinking party was set up.
A cup and a flask, two great masters of martial arts sat across from each other.
Over two hundred warriors surrounded the table. The wide hill of the Seven Peaks sect was now filled with a silent crowd, accompanied by a cold tension.
“You take it first.”
Baek Seo-goon held the flask with her long fingers. It was her right hand, the one she used for swordplay.
As she looked at the boy with a faint smile, the boy took in the sight of her full form.
When she grabbed the flask, her pinky finger was the last to move. It would be the same when she held her sword.
The energy flowing from the small acupoint near her smooth nails was the weakest.
This meant that her sword techniques were free-flowing. When she wasn’t using the mystic sword, she appeared to use a dazzlingly swift sword.
The right arm, reflected in the red sleeve, was visible in the boy’s gaze. He saw the elegantly polished muscles.
Her body appeared sleek, like a swordsman ready for flight, with shadows that extended from the biceps and down to her wrist.
Her body itself was a sword. It was built with an optimal structure for the agile sword techniques.
It would be worth bringing this technique to Jeong Ga-donggong and further developing it.
Maybe I should blend the intricacies of Shihwa Muguk-su. The techniques resembling the fierce winds of the Seven Peaks sect.
Ever since the boy began creating new sword techniques, his insight had evolved again. He saw everything in the world as a source of inspiration for swordsmanship.
As if a sword had taken its place in his enlarged Baihui acupoint, he absorbed energy from both humans and nature alike.
In his mind, countless lightning-like thoughts flashed. To craft a divine sword technique, one type of stance was not enough.
The seat would make him stronger.
The young Ma Gwang-Ikju raised his cup in the sunset.