Jeong Yeon-shin watched as the words formed on Bohyul Daeju’s lips, his lips moving with clarity. For a moment, his eyes were filled with doubt.
This was someone who filled the position of the Wonpyeong Ilgeomjang. There was no way someone of this stature would let their composure slip.
‘It must just be bad timing.’
He chose to think that way. Even top-tier martial artists like him might have eccentric personalities.
He spotted Ak Su-rim, who waved his hand from a distance, and Ha Hoo-yeon, who simply nodded. It all made sense quickly.
Jeong Yeon-shin turned his attention back forward.
The new Ma Gwang-ik did not avoid Seonmok Ryeongju's pained sneeze.
He had considered supporting her if she lost her balance, but Seonmok Ryeongju maintained her dignity.
She straightened her posture and stared into his eyes. The sunlight reflecting off her clear, bright gaze was almost otherworldly.
"Let go," she said quietly.
Both knew the match had been decided. Seonmok Ryeongju’s internal injuries could have been severe.
The moment her tenth layer of Simbyeok Cheonbingpae shattered, if Ma Gwang-ik hadn't retracted the Hwan-gang energy, it would have been catastrophic.
Her abdomen had been struck with enough force to make her spit blood.
It was a truly refined technique. The rumor that it had been invented by Seomye herself now felt even more astonishing.
In terms of martial arts, this could very well be considered the best under heaven.
‘...Along with the five legendary techniques of the martial world.’
Seonmok Ryeongju’s mind briefly wandered. She listed five names, her thoughts flowing like light.
The unparalleled technique of the Mount Hua Sect, Shidan Jin (十段錦).
The famed Shaolin Sect’s Cheonsu Yeorae Jang (千手如來掌).
The Bloodblade Sect’s Wei Geom Gunlim Jang (衛劍君臨掌).
The Ming Sect’s Amcheon Subyeokse (暗天手壁勢), created by the sect’s leader right before their fall.
And Boyeol Cheonbeop (保月穿法), the secretive technique of the elite noble sects.
The years spent mastering Hwan-gang had not surpassed those techniques. However, with many feats behind him, Ma Gwang-ik had forced Seonmok Ryeongju to retreat.
When the five legendary techniques combined with Hwan-gang, it was clear that many martial artists would be eager to witness the outcome.
If Ma Gwang-ik, at his young age, targeted the elite warriors, it would inevitably lead to confrontations.
‘What is this?’
Seonmok Ryeongju shook her head internally.
Now was the time to release her Cheongseok warriors.
The idea of determining the greatest martial technique was only for martial enthusiasts. It was not the time to care about that.
‘Three of the Cheongseok warriors... I didn’t expect to be defeated here.’
Her eyes darkened.
She felt today would be the most unfortunate day in Ipwang Fortress. The anticipated losses weighed heavily on her heart. She felt some resentment toward her subordinates.
Why, with her Gyu Seong Su Gong, a technique not lacking in skill, had she foolishly sought to challenge Seomye’s martial flow?
On the other hand...
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly lowered his hand, which had been gripping Seonmok Ryeongju’s wrist. Her tendons brushed gently against his thumb.
It was a bundle of muscle known as Jangjanggeun, or long palm muscles. Perhaps because of the Binggong, her arm felt colder than usual, and a sudden curiosity emerged.
Could martial arts contain the ability to protect the body internally like this? If not, how was she able to withstand Binggong?
Normally, a martial artist wouldn’t dare grasp the wrist of someone from the Black Faction.
It wasn’t done in the martial world.
Grabbing someone’s meridian points was forbidden even among family members.
A martial artist with excellent perception could read the flow of internal energy through their opponent’s wrist. Disrupting the flow of their energy was also possible. It was a forbidden act.
Jeong Yeon-shin.
By accident, he had sensed the flow of Seonmok Ryeongju’s energy path. He had not tried to detect it.
The surging pulse beneath her skin during the match was undeniable.
‘Binggong...’
He thought back to Ta Yeom-ryong.
He remembered the deadly Taeyang Shinmaek technique, one that burned through the body with an overwhelming flow of heat. It was a condition where the practitioner could not contain the overwhelming energy and thus perished early.
The Hwangbo clan had its own intricate practices.
They must have learned the methods of using Yin energy to counteract the excessive heat of the body.
Seonmok Ryeongju shook her head, wondering if there had been a way to control this.
Jeong Yeon-shin had come to a realization: he couldn’t have helped Ta Yeom-ryong.
He always pondered such matters. Sitting atop the grave of Ta Yeom-ryong might have been a way to reflect, but he preferred to live and die naturally.
Having just experienced Seonmok Ryeongju’s Binggong, he knew soon he would face Ma Yeon-jeok’s Daehuandan.
Time and experience only expanded one’s understanding. Eventually, he might discover answers to these questions.
Just as Jeong Yeon-shin was sorting his thoughts...
"Look at me."
Seonmok Ryeongju, calm as ever, spoke out.
"You can’t ignore a defeated opponent like that. It could be taken as an insult."
“Mocking me?”
Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t bother to hide his surprised expression. For a moment, his thoughts drifted as he looked for something to learn from the martial artist, Cheon So-so.
Jeong Ga-donggong was particularly advantageous against martial arts from the Yin-based schools, so if he fought again, his chances of winning would increase. But even then, Cheon So-so's transparent nature would not be easily broken.
“It’s a commendable spirit. I, your junior, am impressed.”
He spoke calmly.
To rise to the rank of the Singeom Danju, gaining the respect of all was essential.
Jeong Yeon-shin wanted to shape the day’s outcome into something positive, no matter the result.
For example, a display of mutual admiration between senior and junior leaders over each other's martial skills and spirit.
If martial ties were forged through strength, it would be perceived favorably by all. He had already prepared to speak politely, just as he had with the literary figures of the General Staff.
‘Maybe it’s for the best. Senior Cheon is truly a true martial artist.’
A feeling of admiration and uncertainty rose from deep within his heart and showed on his face.
Hwan-gang's technique had its shortcomings, due to the extreme focus on its principles.
He hadn’t expected a senior master of the same rank to accept it so readily. Truly, it was remarkable resolve.
‘If I hadn't been careful, I might have been struck by a counterattack.’
The defense was frightening. The tingling reaction traveling through his wrist said as much.
Charging the Hwan-gang's final blow into the Nei Guan acupoint like a gunshot was no easy task. The body had to endure its violent precursor.
This thought came to him after hearing about Cheon So-so's "Simbyeok Cheonbingpa" technique from Cheongmyeong.
Even with the Jeong Ga-donggong working through his acupoints, it would still require considerable effort. It was hard to believe he could use it more than once in a fight.
“......”
Cheon So-so, lips pressed together, paused in thought, gazing at Jeong Yeon-shin.
It was difficult to guess the true meaning behind the words “commendable spirit.”
Was she mocking his response?
She, a senior, had overestimated her defense by trusting too much in her martial technique, leaving herself vulnerable to a powerful strike. Judging by the result, it was an error that could be ridiculed.
The sincerity behind Jeong Yeon-shin's expression made her confused.
‘This young Han man’s temperament is both pure and strange. A temperament befitting such exceptional talent.’
She thought to herself. He would be useful against the enemies of Ipwang Fortress.
Even now, a strange heat rose from her abdomen, near the Yin Jiao acupoint.
She had not forgotten her status as part of her clan and had always worked hard in her cultivation, yet this was a feeling entirely new to her.
Whether it was frustration or anger, she couldn't tell.
Cheon So-so forced herself to maintain an indifferent expression.
Looking down slightly, I noticed the area around Jangpo's abdomen was completely crumpled. It was a trace of Hwang-gang.
The force, which had exploded violently, had created a vortex like a battle blade. If it hadn't been retracted, it might have been shredded to pieces. It was a scene that commanded admiration.
She slowly parted her lips.
"...Hong Hye-geom (虹慧劍) Do Yun-myeong (都輪鳴), Sa Wol-gung-gi (射月弓鬼) Wi Ye-ryeong (魏叡玲), Ho Hyup-do (好俠刀) Jeong Jun (鄭浚)."
Cheon So-so continued quietly.
"All the aliases were officially recognized by the central office. They're all Blue Rank. They each learned and mastered their respective techniques: Gwanghwa Sword Style, Hwanikbo, and Sigukgyeong. I've processed them through the central office, so you can keep that in mind."
"Yes, thank you."
Jeong Yeon-shin responded coolly.
Cheon So-so closed and opened her eyes, her long eyelashes fluttering slightly.
"...The three of them are mixed-blood from noble families. They all have virtuous characters and outstanding talents, so I hope you'll treat them well. It's not my place to say, but..."
"Yes."
"...There's no need to push them too hard. Just a little guidance from you will make them infinitely stronger. They've all had considerable experience. Especially when dealing with the Thirteen Heavens, they’ll be of great help. That's how their martial arts are."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Jeong Yeon-shin nodded curtly and raised his sword. He tightened his arms, unwilling to show his exhaustion.
His right hand, which had repeatedly unleashed Hwang-gang, was still numb. Even though he had divided the attacks into short intervals, this was the result.
Was it because his opponent was a fellow Grand Master? The strategy of keeping the fight short seemed to put even more strain on his body.
"I've spoken too long."
Cheon So-so received the returning salute.
"..."
By then, the area around the martial stage was still silent. The stillness had swallowed up the crowd. Not a single person dared to speak hastily.
It had only been two exchanges.
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There were some who had placed bets on the outcome of the martial arts contest.
No one had bet on a victory based on any of the techniques.
A short contest in the realm of equals was said to have no relation to the level of martial skills, but the combat style of Ma Gwang-ik, combined with his divine arts, produced results beyond common expectations.
Even some high-level experts who had witnessed Seomye's ascension ceremony were silent.
After a long while, small murmurs began to stir.
"...It's going to be hard to see Ma Gwang-ik as weak. The Grand Master is already that powerful. He was only seen as a promising new Black Rank, but his speed of progress is unbelievable."
"We might clash with the Daebang faction in a group mission. Has Seomye Grand Master ever failed a mission? Something surprising might happen."
"There was one time. The capture of Chil Sado. A top-tier master from the Bloodflame Cult."
"That was when he was White Rank, so it’s more a blemish on Ma Gwang-ik's old reputation."
Seomye had participated in the martial contest as Ma Gwang-ik. Even more attention was drawn to this gathering than the one at the present martial arena.
Could Ma Gwang-ik restore his former might?
He was once considered the strongest among martial forces, excluding the Shingeom Squad.
The forces of Ipwang Fortress were practically a small sect on their own. What achievements Ma Gwang-ik, now the newly appointed Grand Master, would show were the center of everyone's focus.
"Let's meet at the Wonpyeong Ilgeomjang."
Cheon So-so, the leader of Seonmok Ryeong, left behind a brief remark and turned away.
Saba.
The departing footsteps were different from those during the contest.
The steps, like fluttering leaves, carried an unusual weight. She seemed to be deep in thought.
The transfer of the three Blue Rank martial artists was a significant issue.
It was also a source of immense relief for Jeong Yeon-shin. No, even the word "relief" felt inadequate.
The growing sense in his heart was close to fulfillment, as if filling the radiant wheel of his soul.
Three swords had come into his hands.
It felt more fulfilling than when he had created ordinary martial techniques. With this, he had taken another step closer to the purple.
At twenty-four, leading three Blue Ranks, he was soon to dominate the martial world. Jeong Yeon-shin wanted to bestow the title of invincible upon Ma Gwang-ik, whose traces of his late uncle still remained.
'I must reconstruct Ma Gwang-gyeol again. Weaving together the martial principles of Seomye's Mumaek.'
Having dismissed his sword salute, Jeong Yeon-shin sought his next opponent.
The murmurs of the audience did not catch his attention.
His immediate concern was finding the Blood Flame Grand Master, whom he had made eye contact with earlier. He couldn't address multiple seniors at once in his new role as Grand Master.
He had been cautious, not wanting to appear too presumptuous. The name displayed in the contest register was only Cheon So-so’s. He had to designate the next challenger.
Soon, Jeong Yeon-shin's eyes narrowed in confusion.
'Where did he go?'
Blood Flame Grand Master Jin Myeong-jo had disappeared without a trace.
Had some urgent matter come up?
Jeong Yeon-shin raised his spiritual senses and scanned his surroundings, but no hidden energy signatures emerged.
It was as though he had used a cloaking technique and vanished without a trace. Even though two Grand Masters had been present at the scene. It was an incredible feat.
'I need to strengthen the connection between my techniques, the Gwangryun-gi and Myeolma Cheonggangsu. If I refine the formula, the casting will be faster.'
With no other choice, Jeong Yeon-shin decided to head to Ipwang Fortress.
The most significant matter after his return remained unresolved.
Thanks to Jeong Ga-donggong, he had to absorb the Dae Hwandan from his maternal grandfather.
***
Shaanxi Province, Xi'an.
The sunlight, stretching from the end of autumn, swept through the alleyway. Despite the bright rays of the sun, the street felt cold, as if it were chilling the skin.
A woman with ash-gray bobbed hair, her arms crossed, looked down at a kneeling disciple from the Jeongnam Sect.
"I will kill you."
The woman, with a divine sword strapped to her waist, parted her lips.
"Must I become entangled in that child’s quarrel?"
A hint of shame seeped into her narrowed brows. Even without a single touch, the divine sword seemed ready to unleash hundreds of deadly sword strikes at any moment.
The swirling emotions resonated in harmony with the blade, reaching a level of perfect resonance.