Cheon Joo-jin remarked that he and Jeong Yeon-shin had become equals after sustaining a severe internal injury. It was a reference to the exchange of four strikes with Ma Gwang-ikju.
Not anymore.
The boy had grown stronger. While he had not yet surpassed the perfect form of Cheon Joo-jin, he was closer than ever.
However, duels between martial artists were rarely determined solely by power levels. Variables abounded. And at this moment, victory undeniably belonged to Ma Gwang-ikju.
Jeong Yeon-shin took a deep breath. In his mind, he revisited the new sword path he had created.
A few breaths were all he needed. Just enough time to refine the third form—the only one with a name.
His muscles, swollen from his exertions, throbbed steadily.
The wind brushing against his bare skin felt more vivid than the stinging sword wounds. Surprisingly refreshing.
"I’ve created three forms."
He recalled the trajectories of the three forms he had envisioned. It was a fleeting thought, like a beam of light passing through his mind.
The first form was a swift attack technique inspired by Namgung Se-jin’s Imperial Sword Form. By amplifying the power of his entire body, the strike could envelop all directions.
It was a powerful surge of sword energy. A high-speed, vertical slash transformed into an explosive rapid-strike.
Even if his opponent moved first, he would land the blow first—an unparalleled after-initiative strategy.
The second form came from Baek Seo-goon, the Youngcheon Sword Demon.
It was a counterattack form.
Observing Baek Seo-goon’s sword-like movements, he had conceived this form. Her body, honed to perfection, embodied the title of Sword Sovereign.
The technique harnessed the shockwaves accumulated from clashes and redirected them.
Using his Jeong Family Dynamic Gong, he precisely controlled the muscles from his triceps to the flexor muscles beneath his thumb.
With subtle movements, he stored the kinetic energy generated in battle.
Once that energy, accumulated through fierce exchanges with powerful opponents, was fully gathered in his right hand, the resulting strike would surpass even the first form.
"Cheongyeom Ilsik is different."
The third form.
This was a single-strike, kill-or-be-killed technique. It encapsulated the entirety of the Radiant Sword Style in one trajectory.
Even the muscles honed through Dynamic Gong would burn out after just one swing.
It was a trajectory that drew out his full power. A single stroke that stimulated his entire body to its limits.
Even the lengthening limbs of his adolescent frame seemed to be further tempered by the technique.
All three forms had been designed to incorporate the Luminous Method Wheel Qi, a stark contrast to the auspicious energy it carried. Even if his sword techniques appeared tyrannical, they bore the mark of Ma Gwang-ikju.
These forms had no interest in self-cultivation or harmony. They were created purely to crush opponents and secure victory.
With three forms, it could rightly be called a sword technique.
At that moment, Jeong Yeon-shin had become a black-tier swordsman, someone who could contend for supremacy with a single blade.
He was the Master of Ipwang Fortress.
"A name with such weight? That’s quite resolute. Many would offer you mountains of rice to name their techniques."
Cheon Joo-jin’s amused voice reached him. The term Bindo referred to himself, a self-effacing expression used by monks or Taoists.
Perhaps because they had shared swords, his tone sounded unusually benevolent. Much like Jeong Yeon-shin had Ma Jin, Yu Hyeon had Cheon Joo-jin as his mentor.
By ties of mentorship, the swordmaster was akin to the boy’s uncle. Cheon Joo-jin seemed to feel a special connection.
"I’m truly amazed. Rarely in my life have I been so astounded."
He had been present when Jeong Yeon-shin developed the third form of Shihwa Muguk-su.
Flameflow. A fist technique derived from Yu Hyeon’s Falling Shadow Palm. Back then, the boy had worn white robes.
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Now, as Ma Gwang-ikju, he stood equal to the Hwasan Sword Hermit. The moments of sparring with Yu Hyeon’s techniques seemed like a distant memory.
Even in a world filled with miraculous elixirs and mystical creatures, this was an extraordinary event.
Jeong Yeon-shin opened his eyes slowly. A lofty Taoist from Mount Hua entered his view.
The middle-aged swordsman with a stern expression was now smiling gently.
"Bindo has lost. I humbly admit my defeat."
"Thank you, Sword Hermit. I’ve learned much from your instruction."
"Instruction, you say? Such flattery. The martial world is indeed wondrous. Who would’ve thought that boy could spar with Bindo? And at such a young age..."
Cheon Joo-jin’s voice carried unspoken astonishment, his tone higher than when they first met.
As he said, it was an awe-inspiring moment. The calm yet fierce master of Mount Hua couldn’t hide his admiration.
The sharpness he had exuded when sparring with Yu Hyeon seemed softened.
"Compared to you, I am far behind."
Jeong Yeon-shin was curious about who had inflicted Cheon Joo-jin’s injury.
At full strength, the Sword Hermit could stand equal to the previous Ma Gwang-ikju.
Given Ma Jin’s infamous reputation, finding an opponent worthy of challenging him was no small feat.
Cheon Joo-jin merely chuckled.
"Ma Gwang-ikju teases a humble monk. Did you not see? Bindo has lost. Your sword path is truly sublime."
"I gained insight through Mount Hua’s swordsmanship."
"You’re too modest. There is much we must discuss. Soon, I shall visit your abode with Yu Hyeon. I have urgent matters to share, ones that concern not Ma Gwang-ikju, but Jeong Yeon-shin."
It seemed he was referring to the circumstances of his injury.
If it was related to Jeong Yeon-shin and not Ma Gwang-ikju, then it must have been a personal matter. For a grandmaster of Mount Hua to be so affected...
"...I’ll prepare to welcome you."
The boy raised his hands in a formal salute. Cheon Joo-jin mirrored the gesture with a polite nod.
In this moment, Ma Gwang-ikju’s demeanor was markedly different.
Unlike his interactions with other sects’ martial artists, his respect for the orthodox sects was evident.
Even while standing bare-chested, his poise exuded dignity.
The spectators on the viewing platform were momentarily spellbound.
The sight of the young Ma Gwang-ikju was utterly captivating.
His bare upper body exuded raw vitality, an almost primal charm.
Despite securing an unbelievable victory, he stood composed. There was an aura of overwhelming presence about him.
Even the blood from his sword wounds, pooling on his abs, added to the striking contrast against his pristine black pants, making the scene feel surreal.
The massive crowd remained silent for a moment before breaking into murmurs.
"A figure out of a painting... I couldn’t see anything during the duel, but his swordsmanship must be divine. To contend with the Hwasan Sword Hermit... What a world apart he is."
"He doesn’t seem human...?"
"Ma Gwang-ikju won! I knew I should’ve bet everything on him!"
"I lost it all..."
"That boy defeated a sage of Mount Hua..."
The growing excitement in the air ignited the atmosphere. What began as admiration quickly morphed into thunderous cheers, the vibrations of their voices spreading in all directions.
“WAAAAAAAH!”
The roar of the crowd was deafening. Even though few had truly witnessed the subtleties of the duel between these supreme martial artists, the audience’s enthusiasm was overwhelming.
Their cheers easily drowned out the noise of the shockwaves generated by the combat techniques, striking the ears like a physical force.
The martial world, Murim, was a realm of extraordinary beings.
To see such renowned martial artists, bare skin and all, engaging in a life-and-death battle, stirred an undeniable sense of awe.
It was a spectacle that awakened a profound sense of admiration.
These were people who lived beyond the limits of ordinary human experience, exerting their full strength before an audience.
That a young prodigy had triumphed over a middle-ranked master from Mount Hua was a feat that could only amplify the crowd's excitement.
It was, without question, a moment that inspired a peculiar kind of reverence.
This was the stage where the martial world welcomed a new powerhouse.
They called him Ma Gwang-ikju Seomye.
“Ipwang Fortress must take responsibility for the people! To achieve such martial prowess at your age, only Ipwang Fortress can ensure the stability of the martial world! Such a bearing befits a sect as great as Daebang Sect!”
“Look this way, please! I admire you!”
“Please visit the Cheongun Martial Hall (청운무관)! We humbly seek your guidance, Ma Gwang-ikju!”
Some, overwhelmed by excitement, began shouting excessively. The heat of the moment was palpable.
The atmosphere was as if Ma Gwang-ikju had already claimed victory at the Gepa Daetjeon itself. The crowd’s chatter overflowed with endless remarks.
Entertainment of this caliber was rare in the world.
At this moment, Ma Gwang-ikju and the Hwasan Sword Hermit were at the center of their universe.
However, the atmosphere was markedly different among the elite spectators seated in the Menghui viewing gallery.
The dozen or so masters remained silent, with only the occasional comment breaking the stillness.
They hesitated to react openly. The uncovered leadership seating area remained subdued.
“He broke through the Silent Shadow Blossom.”
“That sword technique... I’ve never seen anything like it. That boy is extraordinarily dangerous. It’s impossible to predict how far he might rise.”
It was only after Zhuge Gaju, the leader of the Zhuge Clan, spoke that others began to join in. The senior figures of the major clans exchanged their thoughts.
“He invented a sword form...? It doesn’t seem like the Sword Hermit’s words were exaggerations.”
“Did you catch his sword path?”
“I couldn’t see it clearly. The Sword Hermit’s shockwaves were too dazzling to follow entirely.”
“This development could destabilize the Daehandan’s plans.”
“Where is Eon’s First Fist? That person should be the most attentive to Seomye’s martial arts right now.”
“Probably sprawled out drunk in some tavern. It’s not surprising. Are there even people left who still expect discipline from Eon Yeohyeop?”
“Even when she was among the rising stars, she was both reckless and a prodigy. Her drunken martial arts were astoundingly profound.”
Amid the senior masters, faint laughter rippled. It felt like an intentional distraction to avoid confronting the more troubling implications of the situation.
“I recall it vividly as well. Her martial arts were so exceptional that criticizing her conduct seemed pointless. And with so many admirers, it was difficult to fault her. If my rank had been even slightly lower, I might have cast my pride aside to pursue her... No, I would have been defeated anyway.”
“I can’t even guess how much stronger she’s become since then.”
“Let us take our leave. The Grand Internal Military Strategist has started acting. Such brilliance.”
“At this point, it might be worthwhile to openly pursue a rapport with Ipwang Fortress. Broadening our options can only be advantageous. Was this Zhuge Gaju’s directive?”
The Zhuge Clan leader unfurled a fan embroidered with white cranes, covering a faint smile with its edge.
“It seems this was Ye Sojeo’s improvisation. Did you notice how she stood before the final exchange? Such innate cleverness and agility. If only my son could learn even half of her wit.”
“You’re the only one dissatisfied with the abilities of Zhuge Seonryong. If you truly feel that way, why not arrange a marriage with the Grand Internal Military Strategist?”
The leader of the Mo Yong Clan spoke playfully, but Zhuge Gaju’s faint smile lingered.
“That would be for Ye Gaju to decide. My family sent matchmakers long ago.”
“...It will depend entirely on my niece’s wishes.”
The Ye Clan leader’s blunt response interrupted their banter. Mo Yong Gaju tilted his angular face slightly.
“Hasn’t the Ye Clan long utilized strategic marriages to expand its influence? I understand that your collateral relatives are spread throughout Zhongyuan. Could it be that the Ye Clan hesitates toward the Zhuge family?”
“I simply care deeply for my niece.”
“Ah, I’d forgotten you have no children of your own. My apologies for the oversight. I suppose the Grand Internal Military Strategist must feel like a daughter to you.”
“That is precisely correct.”
“In that case, the Zhuge family will need to send more than just an ordinary dowry. Zhuge Seonryong is an exceptional individual.”
Mo Yong Gaju’s lips curled into a smile as he spoke, but Zhuge Gaju’s faint smile betrayed no emotion, his intentions unreadable.
On the martial stage, an extraordinary scene unfolded.
Jeong Yeon-shin and Cheon Joo-jin had turned away from the crowd and were speaking quietly.
Suddenly, a white hem fluttered, and a woman stepped onto the stage with agile movements.
Her long legs carried her with a grace that hinted at mastery. Subtle qi radiated from her steps, spreading like mist.
She resembled a descending celestial being. Sunlight rippled along her flowing black hair that draped below her shoulders. Even her white blindfold exuded an air of mystique.
Her aura, so distinct from Ma Gwang-ikju’s, drew gasps from the audience.
The conversation between the two grandmasters came to an abrupt halt.
Jeong Yeon-shin silently watched as the woman approached.
“Looks like you’ve opened your eyes,” Ye Sojeo said.
She had come close, so near that her soft breath, infused with qi, could be felt.
Her hand, holding a white cloth, touched Jeong Yeon-shin’s abdomen. The boy flinched slightly, staring at her in quiet surprise.
A smooth smile spread across her lips.
“It’s time for the next duel, isn’t it? I am the Grand Internal Military Strategist, and you are the most honored guest among our envoys.”
“That’s unnecessary...”
“It’s about appropriate decorum. You must maintain your dignity. After all, you are one of a kind.”