Zhuge Cheong-ah's expression remained unchanged at Jeong Yeon-shin’s remarks, but the eyes of both Chui So-ok and Gongsun Min widened slightly.
The newly appointed Ma Gwang-ik Lord had seen through the Zhuge Clan's secret ocular technique.
He hadn’t merely identified its presence—he had named the specific acupuncture points being used.
“Ha.”
A faint blush rose on Chui So-ok’s cheeks as she idly toyed with the hilt of her sword in front of the table.
It was the excitement of a swordsman utterly immersed in her craft. Her hands, honed through years of practicing the Sun Piercing Sword Technique of Jeomchang Sect, revealed both admiration and a thirst for competition.
‘The paths his sword must carve must be remarkably intricate...’
It was difficult to grasp just how sensitive the young lord’s martial senses were.
The refined perception that Jeomchang Sect’s leader had cultivated through years of focused training seemed innate to Jeong Yeon-shin.
He was someone who could leap over decades of accumulated experience, compressing time with his natural talent.
Even if he were to lose to the Plum Blossom Sword Masters of Mount Hua Sect in the near future, few would underestimate him. His future shone brightly.
‘He defeated twenty-three Murim Alliance martial artists in consecutive matches. His techniques are refined to an extraordinary degree, no matter how intense the fights became.’
Against one-on-one rotations, there was simply no rival. Even the Murim Alliance's leadership must have noticed by now. They were likely pinning their hopes on the Plum Blossom Sword Masters and the Supreme Fist of the Eun Family, two of their strongest cards in the Gepa Daetjeon.
While neither of these figures could be called the absolute strongest in their respective factions, they were undoubtedly formidable in this context. The vastness of the martial world ensured such variability, with the positions and priorities of various sects and clans being as diverse as they were entangled.
The question now was, how would this young lord fare against them?
Jeong Yeon-shin had become the focal point of rising anticipation among the martial gathering in Hanzhong. His name was now tied to iconic techniques such as the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword, the Eun Family Fist, and the Shihwa Muguk-su.
Chui So-ok subtly adjusted her breathing, while Zhuge Cheong-ah, who had been silently observing Jeong Yeon-shin for some time, finally spoke.
“...I have committed a discourtesy. It was not my intention to privately analyze the lord.”
The glimmer in her eyes faded, and the faint light of her internal energy dissipated entirely. She had reached the level where she could consciously halt the activation of her techniques, a sign of someone destined to reach the pinnacle of martial arts.
Jeong Yeon-shin regarded the girl, who was about his age, with interest.
“Do you practice continuously?”
“Yes.”
“Your energy flow was stable. It seems you’ve achieved a significant milestone.”
“...It’s the result of harmonizing my internal energy with the body’s natural rhythm. As my energy reserves and physical growth progress, there’s room for further improvement. Compared to the lord’s mastery of diverse techniques, however...”
“Speak your real purpose. My martial arts are not yet renowned enough to serve as an excuse. For a member of the Zhuge Clan to request a spar with me... If it were your brother, I might understand,” Jeong Yeon-shin said, his tone calm.
He referred to Zhuge Hyeon, a man to whom he owed a debt of gratitude.
Zhuge Hyeon had once gifted him the initial forms of an unnamed sword technique during their first encounter on Seobong Path. Among the connections Jeong Yeon-shin had made within the Murim Alliance, Zhuge Hyeon stood out as the most honorable.
As Jeong Yeon-shin silently reaffirmed his resolve to repay this debt, Zhuge Cheong-ah gently shook her head.
“That’s a misleading statement. The black-clad warriors of Ipwang Fortress are watched by the entire world. The moment the lord donned the black robe, the reputation of your martial arts transformed. Even my brother, the Blue Qilin, would disagree with your humility.”
“Are you, like Ak Ye-rim, using the Blue Qilin to see what you wish to see in me?”
The boy’s tone remained composed.
There was no aura of intimidation. The Go board left behind by the Youngcheon Sword Demon, the Strategic Insights taught by Zhuge Hyeon—all these had deepened his mental and spiritual discipline. He would not rashly employ the Gija Jaeng Seon sword unless his opponent crossed the line.
Tae Yeom-ryong, watching the exchange, felt a wave of admiration.
‘He’s become even more terrifying.’
Jeong Yeon-shin had become a sheathed sword—sharp yet restrained, embodying the essence of a master.
His internal energy had grown stronger, a testament to the tranquility settling in his heart. It was as though he had independently mastered the training methods of a prestigious martial family.
Since donning the black robe of Ipwang Fortress, he had become even more resilient.
One could easily imagine the monumental swordsmanship he would achieve once he fully harmonized his mind and techniques.
Yet, Tae Yeom-ryong doubted that Zhuge Cheong-ah’s interest lay in such speculation.
“I’m curious about you.”
Her tone was calm, her expression serene. It seemed to be her nature. No trace of emotion showed on her face.
Her training in ocular techniques had honed her ability to observe without revealing her intentions.
“About what?”
The boy asked, his voice indifferent.
Zhuge Cheong-ah responded without hesitation, seemingly unbothered by Ma Gwang-ik’s aloof tone.
“My family is obsessed with uncovering your secrets. Martial artists versed in spells are busy analyzing your movements, tracing your paths, and calculating the form of your internal energy ripples. They’ve learned much.
Above all else, your techniques...”
She spoke slowly, deliberately.
“...are hasty.”
“...”
"You’ve never exchanged more than a hundred strikes in a duel," Zhuge Cheong-ah began. "Every battle in which you've displayed your skills has been short and decisive. Your martial studies seem tailored for swift victories, which is why so many are betting on the Plum Blossom Sword Master in the upcoming Gepa Daetjeon. Even within a ten-strike match, the opponent is a sword master. Mount Hua Sect’s swordsmanship is reputed to be nearly flawless."
"Are you here to pick a fight?"
Hyeon Won-chang interjected, his fingers twitching as if preparing for something.
Jeong Yeon-shin, who had been listening quietly, shook his head slightly.
"What exactly are you trying to say?"
"If you accept my help, I can teach you the principles of a special sorcery technique. It will allow you to integrate your martial arts organically, giving you an edge against a fully-fledged master like the Plum Blossom Sword Master. However, I require something in return."
"..."
"After the Gepa Daetjeon concludes, come with me. I have something to show you."
"You seem quite dissatisfied with your family," Jeong Yeon-shin remarked, his sky-blue eyes glinting with a sharp light.
The sensation of his energy radiated from his upper danjeon, catching a flicker of unease and anxiety in Zhuge Cheong-ah’s demeanor.
Her openness about her family’s internal affairs was unusual. Clearly, this girl intended to shake the foundations of the Zhuge family, using the Ma Gwang-ik Lord’s sword as her means.
What Zhuge Cheong-ah had witnessed to make her so determined was unclear. How she had even gleaned the essence of techniques from masters far beyond her was equally puzzling.
Martial techniques often reflected the practitioner’s character, and the deeper one delved into mastery, the more evident this became.
"You seem to think that after fulfilling your insignificant proposal, I’ll act according to your wishes."
"I’ve observed your character. What I propose is honorable. Though I can’t disclose everything just yet..."
Her tone was bold.
The light in Zhuge Cheong-ah’s jet-black eyes glimmered, as though her ocular techniques were still active despite her earlier withdrawal.
Jeong Yeon-shin thought briefly of Zhuge Hyeon, recalling how he had once chastised his family’s martial artists and avoided discussing his father. This girl seemed to be planning something neither of those two young men had dared attempt.
"I’ll need to rephrase."
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"Rephrase?"
"You’re not offering me help; you’re seeking it. Don’t approach this as though it’s a negotiation. Your standing is far beneath that of Ma Gwang-ik of Ipwang Fortress."
"..."
"Unbeknownst to you, your proposal is already irrelevant. You’ve failed to fully grasp my martial arts. When the Gepa Daetjeon ends, lower yourself and seek me out. And when you do, don’t prattle on with vague statements. Be clear and direct."
With a slow, deliberate movement, Jeong Yeon-shin stood, delivering an unspoken order to leave.
"Go. I need to meditate."
For a long moment, Zhuge Cheong-ah remained seated, raising her hand to push her ebony hair back from her face—a gesture that seemed habitual.
During this time, she gazed steadily at Jeong Yeon-shin, as if trying to discern whether his words were bluster or genuine.
"Well?"
"...I have overstepped. I deeply apologize for presuming to judge your character."
When Zhuge Cheong-ah finally rose, Chui So-ok and Gongsun Min were ushered out along with her.
"This is too much! I didn’t even get a drink!" Chui So-ok protested.
"Best of luck! I’ll keep today’s events entirely to myself!" Gongsun Min called out cheerfully.
A brief commotion rippled through the courtyard, leaving the feast almost untouched. Tae Yeom-ryong, who had managed to nibble on a few morsels, leaned forward slightly, not even sparing a glance at the departing guests.
"A composed yet audacious young lady," he remarked. "It’s already late afternoon, and the sun has begun to set. Still, are you sure about this? The Plum Blossom Sword Master... He’s not just anyone. The task you’ve taken on is already a feat in itself. As for the Great Return Pill, that’s another matter entirely."
"..."
"Tian Zhu-jin, the Plum Blossom Sword Master... Even I grew up hearing tales of his skill. They say he can paint twenty-four plum blossoms with a single sword. If that’s true, then he possesses a swordsmanship capable of dominating three concentric zones. No wonder those gamblers are running their mouths. Many of them have sharp eyes, even if they’re all lunatics."
"A drunk and a poppy-chewer talking about others losing their minds—ironic," Jeong Yeon-shin replied with a shake of his head.
Tae Yeom-ryong grinned.
"Even with your best efforts, luck will need to favor you. Grip your sword lightly. Mount Hua’s swordsmanship is known for its dazzling feints. If you let tension stiffen your body, you’ll be swept away. At Tian Zhu-jin’s level, even celestial silk won’t hold. Good thing we brought extra robes."
"Thanks for the advice. Now, leave me be. I need to meditate deeply."
"Silence, unworthy one," Hyeon Won-chang interjected sharply.
Tae Yeom-ryong’s eyes narrowed as he cast a curious glance at the senior attendant. His gaze lingered on the pristine white martial robe.
The old subordinate muttered under his breath, "That’s a hurdle best left avoided."
***
"Mount Hua has always been hailed as the pinnacle of swordsmanship," said one observer. "Alongside Wudang and Zhongnan, it has produced peerless swordmasters recorded in the annals of Jianghu. That Tian Zhu-jin will surely join their ranks."
"Isn’t it because you’re from Shaanxi that you’d say such a thing? In my village, Wudang Sect’s Xuankong Zhenren is regarded as the greatest swordsman alive. Then again, it might very well be the Sword Corps Captain of Ipwang Fortress..."
"Regardless, the day has arrived. I’ve been dying to see how long Ma Gwang-ik Lord’s audacious banner can stand."
"Who’s your money on?"
"They say Tian Zhu-jin’s Plum Blossom Swordsmanship is perfection itself. How many swordsmen could possibly rival such mastery? There aren’t many, at least not here in Hanzhong."
"It’s people like you who are driving the odds down."
"The young Ma Gwang-ik Lord is famed for his dynamic spear art. That ‘Blue River Lance’ technique is said to be unparalleled. But breaking through the gap of a swordsman of Tian Zhu-jin’s caliber won’t be easy."
"And yet, the list of masters who’ve fallen to that Polar Flower Fist technique isn’t small..."
"Even so, the swordmaster is clearly superior! Isn’t he a veteran high-ranker? The heads of countless outlaws and rogue martial artists have fallen to his blade—enough to number in the hundreds. Mount Hua’s swordsmanship is renowned for its unyielding discipline."
The lively conversation mixed with the thunderous murmurs of the crowd.
An immense number of spectators had gathered, far exceeding anything seen before.
This was the long-awaited duel between the Plum Blossom Sword Master of Mount Hua and Ma Gwang-ik Lord of Ipwang Fortress—the most anticipated match of the Gepa Daetjeon.
Jeong Yeon-shin stood on the stage, thoughts drifting briefly to the Great Return Pill and his grandfather, Ma Yeon-jeok.
"I’ve heard rumors," said the middle-aged swordsman before him. "How is Ma Jin faring?"
The man possessed a sharp presence and an intimidating aura. The delicate plum blossom embroidery at the hem of his pristine white robe stood out—Mount Hua’s traditional uniform. Yet he didn’t have the air of a Taoist; instead, he felt like a towering sword in human form.
The intensity of his aura was such that Jeong Yeon-shin’s brow tingled, as if pricked by an invisible blade.
This was the very swordsman who had stood as Yu Hyeon’s guardian the first time they met. Now, he stood as an opponent.
"He should be fine," Jeong Yeon-shin replied, thinking of the prosthetic infused with internal energy that had been prepared for his uncle.
The Plum Blossom Sword Master, Tian Zhu-jin, gave a solemn nod.
"...I’ve deliberately avoided seeking you out until now. It feels like only yesterday that you dissolved the Lesser Elixir into Yu Hyeon’s body. However, resolving personal matters should wait until after the duel."
"Wise words."
"Draw your sword."
Jeong Yeon-shin said nothing.
Sching!
The North Bright Sword was drawn with quiet resolve. The moment he gripped the blade, it seemed to glow warmly in his hands.
Facing him, the Plum Blossom Sword Master unsheathed his own sword in a stately motion.
A momentary stillness fell over the crowd, as if even the wind held its breath.
The pressure emanating from the master swordsman was staggering.
In his black attire, Jeong Yeon-shin appeared as a stark contrast—a lone shadow against the Plum Blossom Sword Master’s refined grace.
The flow of orthodox swordsmanship was said to be stately and unhurried, but the young Ma Gwang-ik Lord was unfazed.
His plan was simple: sever the elegant rhythm before it could fully unfold. If even a single strike reached his opponent, the match would shift decisively.
Ten strikes?
Jeong Yeon-shin dismissed the thought. He had no intention of imitating the slow and deliberate exchanges of conventional swordsmanship.
Two strikes would suffice.
"...I see your thoughts clearly. How brazen," remarked Tian Zhu-jin, though a pleased smile crept onto his face.
The young swordsman’s ambition seemed to amuse him, as if he relished the youthful audacity. It was easy to see why Ma Jin had treated him as a worthy rival.
The venerable master raised his blade, pointing it directly at Jeong Yeon-shin’s heart.
The clouds above were bright and pristine. It was the time of Baekro, the fifteenth solar term, when the air was at its clearest.
Autumn winds flowed, indifferent to the affairs of humanity, carrying a crisp transparency.
Jeong Yeon-shin stood firm, no longer the burden of the Jeong family, but the Ma Gwang-ik Lord of Ipwang Fortress.
Much had changed. Where once he fought desperately for his own survival, he now fought for the sake of others—for his grandfather’s well-being.
The wheel of light at his heart spun fiercely, igniting a fiery determination.
"First Form."
The clarity of his refined sword path replayed itself in his mind.
The North Bright Sword’s pure white blade rose toward the heavens.
A blade born in his heart merged seamlessly with the physical blade in his hand.
At the same time, a burgeoning sword art infused with the energy of the Radiant Wheel Qi Technique blossomed.
It was as if sunlight, carried on the wind, had descended upon the stage. Jeong Yeon-shin’s presence became strikingly vivid.
A whirlwind erupted as the Wind Spirit technique surged outward, scattering dust in every direction.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s black robes billowed fiercely in the gale, his figure growing sharper, more distinct.
At the same moment, the Plum Blossom Sword Master began tracing the outline of a flower with his blade, its translucent energy taking the form of delicate petals.
But then—
The young Ma Gwang-ik Lord’s form blurred, distorting faintly, as a radiant glow erupted from his sword.
"What is this!"
"Impossible...!"
Gasps rippled through the crowd as the unexpected unfolded. Even seasoned masters, those who prided themselves on understanding the art of combat, were momentarily taken aback.
From the observation pavilion, the Murim Alliance’s leaders stood abruptly, their shelter’s canopy flung aside by an unintentional burst of energy.
In the next instant, light surged across the stage.