The last duel of the Gepa Daetjeon was unlike the encounter with Tian Zhu-jin. After the newly appointed Ma Gwang-ik Lord defeated forty-five opponents, the alliance could no longer hold back and brought out Eon Hwayeon, the Fist Lord of Eon.
The flag of the Ipwang Grand Alliance fluttered in the heart of the Menghui. Even the upper echelons of the martial world had no choice but to respond.
Jeong Yeon-shin faced the alliance's ultimate move with a body already heated from the previous battles.
He had methodically unleashed the Ultimate Polar Flower Fist techniques in sequence. Before stepping onto the duel stage, he had already begun circulating the Radiant Wheel Qi, needing less than two breaths to flow from the First Form: Spiral Strike to the Third Form: Flameflow.
Eon Hwayeon's internal energy barrier was formidable, a truly impenetrable defensive field.
Her Protective Qi was immense, embodying a mastery that shaped her energy into physical forms through rigorous cultivation. As a martial artist, she could crush the reputations of many swordsmen.
Gone was her image of a carefree drunkard.
On the duel stage, she radiated an almost divine presence. An invisible current coursed through her entire body, exuding strength and precision.
Her mastery of martial arts and protective energy seemed to transcend into the realm of divine techniques.
As soon as the duel began, she closed the distance without hesitation, erasing the gap with a single step.
The boy remained unfazed. He had anticipated close combat from the start.
When she struck, he deflected her hand with the First Form: Spiral Strike and countered with the Stonewall Punch to her abdomen. But the impact was like striking a moving swamp—an odd rebounding force met his fist.
For a moment, his wrist nearly twisted. The intricate qi structure unique to the Eon Clan generated an overwhelming Protective Qi.
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Jeong Yeon-shin immediately enveloped his wrist’s Neiguan Point with the Radiant Wheel Qi, fortifying the bones, joints, and tendons in layers.
It was his first encounter with a martial artist of the Black Rank. There were countless factors to consider.
Even the flow of Eon Hwayeon’s hair as it swept forward drew his attention. Her sharp gaze followed him as she retreated in small steps.
It felt like a glimpse of the Zhuge Clan’s secret eye techniques, as demonstrated by Zhuge Cheong-ah not long ago. A faint blue glow reflected in her eyes as they captured Jeong Yeon-shin's every move.
Even as he activated his Concentrated Inner Qi along his arm, it felt as though she intentionally left openings to provoke him.
With a resounding roar, the surging energy within his palm gathered power. The Radiant Wheel Qi, combined with his blood energy and spiritual force, intertwined with the mysterious essence of a spell formation.
Waves of energy burst forth, carving into the duel stage as they spiraled toward Eon Hwayeon.
The perfected technique, symbolizing invincibility, unfolded as his palm strike aimed at her. He couldn’t bring out its full power, a compromise due to the inherent drawbacks of the Radiant Qi's Ascension Realm, including its long casting time. Even so, the attack was powerful enough to shake the air.
That was when it happened.
A soft sensation brushed against the underside of his forearm, cool to the touch.
In an instant, his vision was obscured by ebony hair.
Eon Hwayeon had suddenly advanced with flawless footwork, lowering her body and bypassing the radiant qi, grabbing hold of his forearm.
Even the protective qi guarding her face was impressive—despite the wind generated by his technique, her sharp eyes remained visible through the storm.
Her languid, descending gaze approached him like an unsheathed blade. When her pitch-black pupils gleamed, it was already too late.
Boom!
The explosive force of the Radiant Qi detonated above them. A violent shockwave coursed through his arm, spreading down to his feet.
The ground beneath his heels crumbled, and the stage itself shook momentarily.
It was the first time his Radiant Qi had ever missed its mark.
Eon Hwayeon, the First Fist of Eon, had pierced through the weaknesses of his burst-style technique. Fearlessly advancing with her robust Protective Qi, she had altered the trajectory of his strike at the critical moment.
The precise, practiced hand of a seasoned Black Rank martial artist was terrifying.
Her grip, moving from his forearm to his shoulder, betrayed her mastery. Jeong Yeon-shin’s sharp eyes flashed as countless possibilities raced through his mind—whether she would target his pressure points, employ internal palm strikes, or resort to nerve manipulation.
Whoosh!
He invoked the Wind Spirit Technique, twisting from his feet. The Radiant Wheel Qi, emanating from the Yongcheon Point on his sole, synchronized with his micro-muscles.
A seemingly small movement created a whirlwind-like surge. The young Ma Gwang-ik Lord’s body transformed into a spinning vortex.
His black martial robes swirled in a spiral, and the power of his turning body exceeded her grip strength. With a sharp motion, he slipped from her grasp and widened the distance.
Boom!
The spinning momentum stopped abruptly, releasing a fierce gust of wind that silenced the crowd.
The duel had captivated the audience, its intensity stealing their breath. The brief stalemate between two fighters of equal footing reflected a striking equilibrium.
“....”
The Ma Gwang-ik Lord and the First Fist of Eon faced off, two paces apart.
It was the perfect range for her to unleash her ultimate move the moment he reached for his blade. To respond in time, he had to remain unarmed.
Eon Hwayeon, true to her word at Cheonghakru, was unhesitant in closing the distance.
Jeong Yeon-shin silently studied her.
Her mastery of Protective Qi was remarkable. Even after enduring the intense wind pressure of his Radiant Qi, her hair remained perfectly in place—a testament to the constant flow of her internal energy, wrapping her body like a flexible yet firm barrier.
Her martial style, tailored for close-range combat, emanated an overwhelming sense of pressure.
‘She may be weaker than Tian Zhu-jin or the Youngcheon Sword Demon in some areas, but...’
It didn’t matter. All three of them were seasoned masters far beyond Jeong Yeon-shin’s years of training. Eon Hwayeon’s strengths were unique and undeniable.
Her protective energy was exceptional, seamlessly complementing her internal energy structure, perfectly suited for full-body reinforcement.
While Jeong Yeon-shin pondered, she smiled and spoke.
“Your Protective Qi doesn’t match the level of your internal energy, does it?”
Her tone was no longer slurred like it had been at Cheonghakru. Instead, it was sharp, clear, and brimming with intellect—a hallmark of the high-ranking masters of the alliance.
“When I touched you, your skin was almost bare. I could feel it clearly,” she teased, lightly moving her scarred fingers. Her disregard for the crowd’s gazes below the stage was striking.
After establishing her dominance as a top martial artist, her provocation elicited cheers from some warriors.
“Your energy circulation was oddly sluggish. Only your sharp instincts seemed dangerous, as if you were reading moves ahead. But as a master, you still have many flaws. And that technique of yours...”
Her smile deepened.
“I disagree with what the Namgung heir said about you. To claim you’ll become the strongest under heaven? Unlikely.”
“....”
“Your techniques are too advanced for their time. So long as the grand orthodox sects uphold their traditions, your skills will struggle to shine. The higher you climb among the elite, the more apparent this flaw will become. Your martial composition remains shallow.”
She had observed him closely throughout the duel, confirming that only his sword techniques and Radiant Qi could challenge her Protective Qi.
“....”
Jeong Yeon-shin finally broke his silence.
“Bloodlines of noble clans talk too much.”
He spoke coldly, dismissively.
“Show me something worth watching, then. You’ve boldly planted the Ipwang flag and built your reputation. If you want to prove your worth, it won’t suffice to offer an ordinary spectacle.”
Eon Hwayeon’s face lit up with a composed smile.
She had completely dismantled his Ultimate Polar Flower Fist, and her confidence was well-earned.
Her sleeveless robe shifted as she assumed a stance, her forearms visibly pulsating with the power of deep internal energy.
Her whisper reached him.
“Come, boy. Five exchanges remain.”
Jeong Yeon-shin’s gaze sharpened.
“Your famed perception might be adept at observing. Now it’s my turn to change how I see.”
Suddenly, a white light shimmered in the boy’s eyes.
***
In Namyang Prefecture of Hanam Province, a tranquil pavilion stood with open walls on all sides. At its center, a low table bore a simple spread as two figures sat facing one another.
One was a young woman; the other, a man of noble lineage.
The woman’s appearance was striking. Her sleek gray hair barely reached her nape, and as the wind swept by, the ends of her hair brushed against her pale neck. The interplay of austerity and freedom in her demeanor was almost poetic. Her beauty, perhaps nearing thirty years of age, carried a resolute dignity.
“It seems Lyeon-ju hasn’t caused much of a stir. Even though half the forces you led have vanished,” the man said, his tone nonchalant.
He wore a green robe, its open chest revealing an air of indifference uncharacteristic of someone from an illustrious clan. His long, jet-black hair, as dark as night, gave off a decadent impression, and his flushed ears peeked out from between the strands—likely from midday drinking.
It was Hao Mun-ju.
A faint scoff broke the stillness.
The Sword Sovereign of Hanam Province, Baek Seo-goon—the Youngcheon Sword Demon—let out a small laugh.
“There’s no one in Sim Mu-ryeon capable of replacing this Sword Sovereign. A stir? That’s a baseless fear.”
“You do realize that, in military terms, such a loss would be considered a complete annihilation?”
“It was an opponent worthy of it.”
“Ah, the new Ma Gwang-ik Lord. They say he’s heating up all of Hanzhong. Even our sect has taken notice. The emergence of a rising powerhouse always demands attention,” Hao Mun-ju remarked.
The icy expression on Baek Seo-goon’s face thawed slightly. A faint smile graced her crimson lips.
“To think Ban-ak’s son would come to dominate the martial world. I believed he’d grow well, but he’s surpassed all expectations. As a warrior, he’s matured beyond imagination. It’s overwhelming—so much so that I couldn’t stop marveling at it the entire way here.”
She meant every word.
She recalled the intricacies of the Go strategies that Jeong Ban-ak, her former master, had taught her during her days as a servant.
Jeong Ban-ak’s son embodied those lessons with every move. His aggressive approach to life mirrored his father’s teachings and appearance. To Baek Seo-goon, it was a sword form of unparalleled nobility.
She had cast aside the Jeong Household to escape her lowly status, yet the time spent there had not been in vain. Even now, she recognized its value.
Because of Seomye, the life of the Sword Sovereign of Hanam had been fulfilled. It was precious time well-spent.
“He truly grew well, and he’s astonishingly remarkable,” she murmured softly, almost unaware of the words escaping her lips.
Hao Mun-ju’s expression turned peculiar.
“Well... grew well? That’s debatable.”
Baek Seo-goon’s snow-white brows knit together, and an icy glint emerged beneath her long lashes.
“If I say so, then it is so. You’d do well to take my word for it.”
“Well, it’s just... there are so many rumors surrounding the new Ma Gwang-ik Lord...” Hao Mun-ju trailed off.
Baek Seo-goon’s faint smile dropped slightly.
“Don’t hide your thoughts from me. Speak plainly.”
“After Seomye’s name began spreading, our sect activated its covert agents. He’s the bloodline of the Ipwang Ma family, after all. Once he began standing out, we presumed he’d become a towering figure in the martial world and delved deeply. We even questioned the common folk of Shinya County, where the Jeong family once resided. It was something those dignified Blade Specters would never stoop to.”
“And?”
“Well... it seems he didn’t have the smoothest upbringing...”