Jeong Yeon-shin stood ten steps away from the two combatants. His arms were crossed, and his posture, though still, didn’t appear awkward.
Fragments of energy, carried like a whisper on the wind, brushed against the hem of his black robe and drifted away.
“Well then,” muttered Kang Un-chan, lifting his head as he stood before Hyeon Won-chang.
The Sword of a Thousand Scrolls, Kang Un-chan.
His face bore a faint, bitter smile. His nickname, earned for the countless manuals he had read that could fill a cart, was well-deserved. As a martial artist of the General Administration Division, his nature was that of an academic warrior who consumed both literary and martial wisdom with equal fervor.
Kang Un-chan was a high-ranking warrior challenging the Blue Rank. The sudden burst of energy moments earlier hadn’t shaken his protective qi barrier. Not even a Black Rank grandmaster could disrupt his defenses so easily.
The force that had struck him wasn’t sufficient to break his internal defenses. It was more like a petty whim often seen among fortress lords—a show of strength to assert authority.
Ipwang Fortress was no stranger to such antics.
The eccentricities of figures like the Deputy Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, the former Shin Geom Danju, and the Celestial Forest Lord had become routine. They ruled with the principles of survival of the fittest and strict hierarchy, fully enjoying the privileges granted to their status.
Moreover, Jeong Yeon-shin was of the Ipwang Ma lineage.
Few expected generosity or leniency from him. Only the new Lord himself remained unaware of this unspoken understanding.
“This Kang may have spoken too much,” said Kang Un-chan, rubbing the back of his head. He hadn’t initiated the duel yet, postponing it instead. Since the earlier energy strike wasn’t part of their fight, fairness was hard to argue.
“The Ma Gwang-ik Lord expressed his displeasure... about the noise,” Kang said, his eyes flashing toward Hyeon Won-chang. His hand continued to rub the back of his head, fingers lingering as if probing for traces of the energy strike.
He was a scholar obsessed with martial arts. Among the warriors of Ipwang Fortress, few lacked talent. Kang Un-chan’s curiosity had been piqued by the earlier display of technique. Though he didn’t dare turn around to inquire directly, his thoughts mirrored those of many others in the crowd, who murmured in speculation. What kind of technique was that?
“Do not delay. I’ve repeated myself enough,” Jeong Yeon-shin said firmly.
“As this Lord has limited experience, I am not skilled in provocative language to bait my opponents. However, I do know what is useless in combat. Focus on your martial skills. In the realm of technique, I will judge impartially.”
His calm voice carried a weight of sincerity. The tone of his words reflected the dignity of his station.
“My apologies,” Kang Un-chan said, placing a hand on the hilt of his sword. Opposite him, Hyeon Won-chang, who had been standing with a curious expression, drew his blade.
Sunlight danced noiselessly along the dual edges of their swords.
Jeong Yeon-shin glanced briefly at the two combatants and reviewed the technique he had used earlier.
“So the energy concentrated that much at that range...”
Creating a mid-range energy wave wasn’t difficult.
It was akin to the principle of striking a bull beyond the mountain—a technique that delivers force through an obstacle. Jeong Yeon-shin had struck the air with a short burst, using compressed energy to send a powerful shockwave.
When he focused the impact point into a single spot, the wind carried and delivered the strike. It resembled the techniques often favored by martial masters of the Ming lineage.
“Is that how Shaolin’s Hundred-Step Divine Fist works?”
Jeong Yeon-shin briefly pondered the mysteries of martial arts.
The effort he’d expended to produce the energy wave hadn’t yielded much utility. Techniques like the Hundred-Step Divine Fist weren’t meant to be used impulsively. As one of the most famous martial arts in the world, Shaolin likely guarded its secrets for good reason.
“I need to ensure no one gets hurt—not in the fortress, not my own.”
Jeong Yeon-shin raised his head.
Clang—!
A sharp metallic ring erupted, like the striking of brass. The swords clashed, and the resulting shockwave swept across the arena like a cold gust, brushing against the skin of everyone nearby.
The veins in the wrists of both Hyeon Won-chang and Kang Un-chan bulged as their blades collided. The energy infused into their strikes radiated fiercely, blazing like summer sunlight, though it lacked color.
Beyond the shimmering blades, Kang Un-chan’s lips curled slightly.
“Your swordsmanship is quite impressive, Hyeon.”
“And your protective qi is extraordinary. Is the qi barrier on the back of your head as thick as your face? After inviting disgrace upon yourself with that strike, to remain so composed—I must admit, I’m impressed by your resilience.”
Hyeon Won-chang’s witty retort came as he maintained the clash. His internal energy flow was remarkably steady, allowing him to speak without labored breath.
Kang Un-chan’s eyes widened slightly. The spectators below reacted similarly.
Beside Tae Yeom-ryong, Zhuge Cheong-ah’s indifferent expression showed a flicker of intrigue. Her lashes lifted ever so slightly.
“His breath control doesn’t match his rank. It’s astonishingly deep,” she remarked.
“A shady dandy, no doubt,” Tae Yeom-ryong quipped, his lips curling into a grin. Even as Zhuge Cheong-ah shook her head, he casually plucked a red poppy from his lapel.
“He’s not as transparent as this humble gentleman here. There’s something a bit... sinister about him. The exact opposite of my pure self, you might say.”
“You should mind your words. They say the sub-units under the Divine Sword Corps function like small sects themselves. Ma Gwang-ik is no different.”
“That’s exactly why I can speak freely. Critiquing someone irrelevant is for enemies you’re about to kill. That guy? He’s got to watch our Lord’s back, doesn’t he?”
“......”
Thud! Clang!
Their conversation continued as their eyes remained on the dueling stage. The echoing thuds of heavy footwork and clashing blades reverberated through the arena, the vibrations spreading even to the lower stands.
The two swordsmen, clad in flowing white robes, crossed paths repeatedly, their swords tracing dozens of intersecting arcs.
The crowd around Tae Yeom-ryong and Zhuge Cheong-ah murmured in awe.
“The Sword of a Thousand Scrolls certainly lives up to his name. Did you see that upward strike just now? The fragments of his energy scattered across the entire field. It bloomed like petals. He completely neutralized Ma Gwang-ik’s formation technique.”
“They say he’s read through all the secret manuals of the fortress’s celestial archives. Seems it wasn’t just a rumor.”
“They claim he’s mastered every manual from the lower and intermediate levels. That’s why he’s called the Sword of a Thousand Scrolls. Truly, a genius.”
“It’s like he’s enhanced his inner energy cultivation through sheer knowledge. Imagine how broad his understanding must be.”
Hyeon Won-chang’s sword was gradually being pushed back. His advance had long since halted, and his footing had shifted to retreat.
Anyone could see he was being overwhelmed. His swordsmanship and insight were noticeably inferior.
With a faint smile, Kang Un-chan spoke again.
“You could benefit from some humility.”
“What?” Hyeon Won-chang shot back.
“You denied my words earlier, didn’t you? That’s why you’re unable to fully draw out Lord Jeong’s teachings. The world doesn’t yet fully recognize the brilliance of Ma Gwang-ik Lord, but you should. You haven’t done him justice.”
With those measured words, Kang Un-chan swung his blade. The sound of their clash echoed again, and sparks flew in all directions.
Though Hyeon Won-chang’s internal breathing was deep, there was no way he could maintain both his defense and banter under such pressure.
He was not Jeong Yeon-shin.
It had been less than two years since Hyeon Won-chang entered Ipwang Fortress. It was far too soon to contend for the Blue Rank with martial prowess alone.
Their ages were worlds apart. Kang Un-chan, in his thirties, was an experienced mid-tier swordsman. His composed demeanor and measured attacks demonstrated his confidence and discipline.
And so, even before the Ma Gwang-ik Lord, Kang Un-chan retained his calm, unwavering attitude.
“Dammit.”
Hyeon Won-chang's gaze sharpened as he continued retreating across the sparring stage. Kang Un-chan's sword strikes were indeed as formidable as the man's reputation suggested.
Each slash seemed to ripple through the air, sending tremors along Hyeon Won-chang's sleeves. The efficiency of the sword energy Kang Un-chan generated was astounding.
“He could definitely reach the Blue Rank.”
Despite the relentless assault, Hyeon Won-chang remained calm. He understood the symbolic importance of the martial art he was about to unveil today.
“Renowned techniques like the Plum Blossom Sword or the Shaolin’s Five Great Fist Forms only reveal their true worth in the hands of elite disciples. They don’t rely solely on peak masters to showcase their power. Even the combined attacks of skilled Plum Blossom Sword practitioners are enough to trouble Mount Hua's sword legends.”
The same would need to hold true for Gwangyeol Technique. Without such a foundation, it wouldn’t survive.
This was the first original martial art born from the Ma Gwang-ik Division, created by Jeong Yeon-shin himself. Everyone would soon come to know it. This knowledge allowed Hyeon Won-chang to ignore the murmurs and speculations of the crowd.
"While Ma Gwang-ik's strength is widely acknowledged, how can hastily recruited warriors hope to coordinate effectively? That one, for instance, The Silver-Tongued Sword Hyeon Won-chang—an extraordinary hero like Lord Jeong Yeon-shin would be hard-pressed to find suitable subordinates."
"His future shows promise. He's simply unrefined for now."
"Ma Gwang-ik has barely been spared from being reduced to a fledgling force. Their ranks were depleted, their wounded numerous."
"Still, they’ve managed to fill the gaps and now only have to grow alongside their new Lord. There's no reason to disparage them—doing so insults the sacrifices made by those who fell in Sichuan."
At that moment, the clash of sword trajectories reached its peak.
Boom!
Kang Un-chan slammed his foot onto the ground, channeling power into the Yongcheon Acupoint on his sole. A surge of energy exploded upward, rippling like a tide and tearing through the air with ferocious force.
His waist twisted sharply as he unleashed a devastating slash, the sword's trajectory cutting viciously through the air.
Kwwaaaaaah!
The energy surrounding his blade shredded the atmosphere as if devouring it. Just then, Hyeon Won-chang swung his sword down from above—a counterstrike that met Kang Un-chan's attack head-on.
Before the two strikes could collide, a resonant hum, like the buzzing of a swarm of bees, filled the air.
The sound emanated from Hyeon Won-chang’s grip. A radiant white light coiled around his hand, spreading rapidly along the blade.
In an instant, the sword was enveloped by a dazzling glow, like threads spun from sunlight scattering in all directions.
It was unlike anything anyone had seen before.
The moment Hyeon Won-chang summoned his energy, the brilliance erupted, tracing a trajectory so stunningly precise that it felt surreal.
"That’s...!"
The spectators shot to their feet, their bodies propelled by sheer astonishment. Anyone with an eye for martial arts recognized the extraordinary sight before them.
What had once been dismissed as a unique, inimitable technique of the Ma Gwang-ik Lord was now being wielded by a mere subordinate.
The technique, once thought exclusive to Jeong Yeon-shin, shattered the rigid assumptions that had frozen minds like ice.
Kwwaaaaaaaah!
Hyeon Won-chang’s blade surged forward, the radiant energy coursing through it pushing aside Kang Un-chan’s strike with ease. The shockwaves carved through the air, grazing the ears of those nearby.
The ferocity of the single slash was overwhelming. Even in that fleeting moment, the nature of the technique was clear—it bore the essence of its creator. The straight and unyielding path of the blade was a reflection of Jeong Yeon-shin's character.
“What the—?!”
Kang Un-chan’s eyes widened in disbelief. His sword, which had been extended outward, was now forced back toward his chest, carrying Hyeon Won-chang's blade with it.
Unable to withstand the amplified sword energy, his body felt as though it might be cleaved in two.
Beyond the dazzling light of the sword energy, Hyeon Won-chang's dark eyes were eerily calm.
Beneath his heroic headband, his narrowed gaze glinted with a sharp, almost predatory intent. It was startlingly different from the composed aura Jeong Yeon-shin exuded when using the same technique. The wielder's personality transformed it entirely.
Thud!
Hyeon Won-chang twisted his wrist, slamming the flat of his blade against Kang Un-chan’s forehead.
The resulting shockwave rippled outward, heavy and resonant. White streaks of light danced erratically, like threads unraveling into chaos.
The energy radiating from Hyeon Won-chang’s strike shredded Kang Un-chan's upper garment to tatters, leaving his body exposed.
Shreeeeak—!
Even the residual energy from the strike felt like countless blades cutting through the air. Though Hyeon Won-chang had deliberately used the flat of his blade, he couldn’t fully suppress the lingering energy.
He cast a disdainful glance at Kang Un-chan’s well-trained physique.
“Compared to our Lord, your external techniques are feeble,” he said, his voice steady.
Hyeon Won-chang continued, "And your words were wrong. You think I simply got lucky, meeting the right mentor? No."
“......”
“I got incredibly, incredibly lucky—so much that someone with your thick-headed arrogance could never comprehend.”
With a flick, he shook the dust from his blade and lowered it.
The Gwangyeol Technique—the martial art that Jeong Yeon-shin had created as the cornerstone of Ma Gwang-ik—had finally been unveiled.
The air rippled with residual energy, the remnants of light scattering like shattered moonbeams. It was as though silence itself had been imposed upon the arena.
For a moment, the vast central sparring ground froze. There wasn’t a single spectator without the eyes to comprehend what they had just witnessed.
“......”
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Without needing to hear the incantation, everyone knew.
—That is a divine art.
The masters of Ipwang Fortress came to the same conclusion. Even without spiritual resonance, it would soon earn such a reputation.
Techniques like the Ten Thousand Blossoms in the Rain of the Tang Clan were similarly revered.
When Jeong Yeon-shin performed the technique, it was almost imperceptible due to the sheer speed and mastery of a top-tier grandmaster. But Hyeon Won-chang had shown it clearly, revealing its brilliance to the world.
He hadn’t revealed it immediately but had concealed it like an assassin's hidden dagger, waiting for the right moment to strike. Such precision required innate talent and control.
Suddenly, Tae Yeom-ryong's laughter broke the heavy silence, and the crowd’s attention split—some eyes turned to Jeong Yeon-shin, the Ma Gwang-ik Lord, while others remained fixed on Hyeon Won-chang.
“...That,” Kang Un-chan muttered, finally breaking his silence. His expression was blank, though his eyes burned with starry fervor.
“What is it?” he asked.
Hyeon Won-chang smirked. Qi surged around his neck, channeling into the Inyeong and Yeomcheon Acupoints as he prepared to speak.
His mastery of internal energy was near-perfect, allowing him to suppress its intensity and maintain his composure—an ability few could replicate.
Then, in a voice loud enough to reach every corner of the arena, he declared:
—Gwangyeol Technique.
The refined sound of his voice resonated throughout.
—The Ma Gwang-ik Lord created this as the signature technique of our division.
Having spoken, Hyeon Won-chang added, this time with a steady, audible tone:
“It belongs to Ma Gwang-ik alone. Search the celestial archives a hundred times over, and you’ll find nothing like it.”