Namgung Mi had once spoken of surrender and persuasion.
This duel was special. The disparity in skill levels was extreme. Other than four individuals, all participants were mid-tier masters.
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Every one of them held the position of teaching younger disciples. It was an odd configuration for a deathmatch.
Even those who had previously faced life-and-death battles considered forfeiting without dishonor.
Namgung Mi, the Chang Ryeong-hwaju of the Namgung Clan, had calculated her moves accordingly.
However...
At this moment.
The head of the scheming younger sister was severed.
The whole world seemed to crawl forward like a grub.
The light sword slicing through Namgung Mi’s body, her neck cleanly severed without even a drop of blood, and her form crumbling as the balance of her footwork shattered—all these gruesome details were etched into the scene with agonizing clarity.
The combatants had been Seomye and his opponent, Namgung Mi.
Namgung Se-jin, the Azure Qilin of the Namgung Clan and its So-ga-ju, reflected that this outcome had always been a possibility.
He hadn’t tried to stop her before the duel. It would’ve been impossible. Two martial houses among the greatest in the martial world had agreed to a life-and-death confrontation.
In a match without overwhelming disparity, honor took precedence over life. This was the essence of a deathmatch.
To Namgung Mi, fighting Seomye or White Qilin was an all-or-nothing scenario.
She had been the one to propose a sequential duel starting with the youngest participants.
She knew that if she failed to defeat Seomye or White Qilin, she would die. Perhaps she hadn’t anticipated her defeat, but she must have understood the stakes.
‘So that’s how it ends.’
The merciless blade of the martial world fell. Chang Ryeong-hwaju couldn’t withstand Seomye’s sword. And so, she died.
It was the result of the life-and-death duel. Those who had crowded the mountain ridges must have understood what it meant to witness such a confrontation.
But Namgung Mi, as one of the Nine Phoenixes of the martial world and a direct descendant of the Namgung Clan, had not been expected to lose her head in a single strike.
The innumerable martial artists gathered fell into a heavy silence.
“......”
So-ga-ju had prepared himself for this.
The martial world was like this. Death often arrived suddenly, like a blind sword cutting through life.
Even the Namgung So-ga-ju, an indifferent brother, found it difficult to look directly at his sister’s death.
He turned his gaze to his father, who stood beside him.
The head of the Namgung Clan.
A cold and authoritative figure whom no one in the family dared challenge.
When Namgung Hwa-shin had tried to leave the main family, this very patriarch had ordered the assassins of the Namgung Clan to kill the illegitimate son.
Even now, his expression remained the same as it had been then. His face was only slightly stiffened.
“So-ga-ju.”
Namgung Ga-ju spoke.
“Prepare yourself.”
“...Yes.”
As always, his father’s words were brief.
This was the same cunning leader who had turned a blind eye to the actions of the Bloodflame Cult after witnessing Seomye’s abilities. For him, his conscience and even his children’s lives were just tools to uphold the family’s foundation.
So-ga-ju’s life was similarly dictated by his father’s will. Assisting Namgung Hwa-shin in leaving the clan was one of the few accomplishments he considered his own.
“Your unworthy son will now depart.”
So-ga-ju spoke formally.
Namgung Ga-ju gave no reply, merely nodding his thick neck slightly.
Following Namgung Mi’s death, it was now So-ga-ju’s turn. He bore the indifferent gaze of his inhuman father on his back as he stepped forward.
Slowly, he advanced toward Seomye, his breath steady and unshaken.
Seomye, Jeong Yeon-shin, stood calmly with two swords hanging from his waist. His long robe, similar in hue to the cobalt uniform of the Namgung Clan, fluttered faintly with the scent of blood.
‘He’s fearless.’
So-ga-ju thought.
He envied the boy, who stood with his head slightly bowed. He had once told him:
“I wanted freedom, like Tae Yeom-ryong of the Hwangbo Clan.”
But Seomye already had it. At such a young age, the boy radiated the dazzling presence of a martial artist, shining brighter than anything in the world.
So-ga-ju took a step forward, ready to test his swordsmanship against the boy’s.
Step.
Finally.
Voices broke out from the Namgung Clan’s side. Observers began offering immediate commentary on the duel.
While some maintained grim expressions, many opportunists within the extended family eagerly seized the moment to speak.
“Chang Ryeong-hwaju...”
“How could this happen? She executed Clear Stream Movement perfectly.”
“Her footwork was peculiar. And her swordsmanship was devastating.”
Several relatives murmured in shock, mainly younger members of the collateral line.
The Namgung Clan’s extended family far outnumbered its direct line, which was limited to the current head’s immediate descendants.
The clan was enormous. Many in the extended family remained indifferent to Namgung Mi’s death.
Were they moderating their words out of respect for the direct lineage? Not at all.
The shock delivered by Seomye of Ipwang Fortress was too great. To the Namgung Clan’s retainers, Namgung Mi had been akin to royalty.
“She died so miserably.”
“Miserably? Her martial accomplishments were lacking. Her final technique was an all-out gamble. Seomye’s life has been shaped by far fiercer battles.”
“He’s incredibly strong. A worthy representative of Ipwang Fortress.”
“Still, can he match So-ga-ju? How many at his age have mastered the Emperor Sword Form to such a degree?”
Their conversations reached Jeong Yeon-shin’s ears. He had pushed the Jeong Family Core Technique to its peak.
His heightened senses refused to settle. It felt right. This was how it should be.
‘He’s strong.’
It was because of So-ga-ju. The man walked toward him with unwavering steps.
The diffuse aura surrounding So-ga-ju condensed sharply, as if a sword’s edge extended from his very being. The palpable force sent shivers down Jeong Yeon-shin’s spine, as though his skin were being split.
It was hard to believe this man had once been a companion on a brief journey through the martial world. He wasn’t just the heir of a great family.
He was a swordsman who had polished his skills to the pinnacle. At this moment, he was a rival far beyond worthy.
The two stood ten paces apart.
“My sister... Namgung Mi...”
So-ga-ju spoke.
“I’ll spare you the story. She was a foolish child, but she met a fitting end as a warrior... That is enough.”
“......”
“You and I... One of us, or both, might die. This is a place where life reaches its edge. This duel... I don’t see it as a mere clash between Namgung and Ipwang. It’s a life-and-death battle. If I fall here, I don’t want to die as just a pawn.”
A faint, carefree smile appeared on the handsome man’s face.
“My life has been spent sheltered in the Namgung Clan’s shadow. It’s a privileged complaint, but it was a shackle.”
“Indeed.”
Jeong Yeon-shin’s brief response deepened So-ga-ju’s smile.
“Even so, I want to break free, just once. They say freedom can be found in the gap between life and death. I’m still skeptical, but now I want to experience it for myself. Can Seomye of Ipwang Fortress make that possible?”
It was a provocative question.
Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t answer. Instead, he prepared to draw his sword once more. He instinctively reached for the familiar Ipwang Sword, even though the Northern Light Sword was a superior blade.
The tension between the two reached a climax. Finally, So-ga-ju spoke:
“Let’s begin.”
“Yes.”
There was no need for a referee in the world of masters.
Shing.
Both swords were drawn simultaneously.
The dry wind ruffled their hair as Jeong Yeon-shin felt the profound shift.
‘He’s expanded his sword domain.’
The sensation brushed against his skin like a faint breeze. It began the moment So-ga-ju drew his ornate sword.
The air became sharp, as if an unseen forest of blades had risen around him.
The Emperor Sword Form. He opened with the highest-level technique.
Jeong Yeon-shin’s upper dantian pulsed with an ominous warning. He immediately understood. If So-ga-ju struck now, evasion would be impossible.
His body felt unnaturally heavy. Even standing was an effort, as if the air around him had turned to lead.
‘Will it work again?’
He considered using the Circular Step of Hwanikbo. This footwork, designed to scatter external forces, had effectively countered Namgung Mi’s Clear Stream Movement.
Would it work against the Emperor Sword Form? It was a question he had grappled with even before the duel began. He had no other alternatives.
As he deliberated, So-ga-ju advanced steadily. It seemed he couldn’t use movement techniques while maintaining the Emperor Sword Form.
‘Let’s try.’
'Let’s collide head-on.’
Jeong Yeon-shin changed his mind. Strategy? It didn’t suit the nature of a martial artist wielding independent techniques. Seomye thrived on instinct.
Surviving every battle thus far had been a result of quicker-than-expected insight. This time, he decided to face his opponent directly.
Swish.
Taking a single step forward required his entire body. Had his physique not been tempered by the Jeong Family Core Technique, he wouldn’t have been able to move at all.
Thud!
With one step, a cloud of dust rose. At the same time, the oppressive force weighing down his body eased significantly. This was a crucial realization.
It meant that every movement in this battle would have to be carried through the footwork of Hwanikbo.
Swoosh!
How keen was So-ga-ju’s intuition?
He wasn’t surprised. As if expecting it, his face remained impassive as he swung his sword.
Was he wielding the Emperor Sword Form with the fluidity of breathing? The faster Jeong Yeon-shin moved, the quicker So-ga-ju’s strikes became.
Clang!
Jeong Yeon-shin almost furrowed his brow but quickly activated the layered energy of Sigukgyeong in his right arm.
The strike that had nearly cleaved him in half stopped. The vibration was so intense it felt as though the force was shaking the very veins in his hand—a level of swordsmanship he had never encountered before.
‘So, this is the extent of it.’
Jeong Yeon-shin calculated within the realm of sensation.
If a single strike carried this much weight, how should the layered energy of Sigukgyeong be applied? In which direction should Hwanikbo be stepped? How should a counterattack be executed?
At that moment, he entered a state of complete absorption. It began abruptly.
Two streams of sword paths intertwined like tangled threads. Every motion of the blades extended with a heavy presence. It was a battle in the domain of heavy swords (Junggeom).
Boom! Clang! Clink!
The exploding sword energy scattered in all directions, like ascending flames. Jeong Yeon-shin’s Lightburst Sword Style was dazzling.
The technique scattered faint rays of light, disrupting visibility with each motion.
He anchored the energy flow of Sigukgyeong on the Jisil Point along his spine. He compensated for his relatively insufficient power with dynamic layers of energy.
Boom!
Any lack of weight was immediately filled by a quick step forward.
When So-ga-ju’s sword grazed his cheek, Jeong Yeon-shin took another step forward, closing the distance.
With both arms raised, he gripped the Ipwang Sword beside his face and advanced without hesitation. The clashing blades screeched against each other.
The grinding sound roared so loudly it seemed sparks might leap from the edge of So-ga-ju’s blade, which was inches from his cheek.
‘Here.’
At that moment, Jeong Yeon-shin released his left hand. The strength behind So-ga-ju’s sword increased instantly.
It pushed Jeong Yeon-shin and his blade backward, while So-ga-ju spun halfway around with his momentum.
The ascendant Bo-shin Footwork was perfectly executed. The movement carried an impeccable elegance, embodying the principles of martial arts.
‘Again.’
This was the nature of their fight.
So-ga-ju maintained a meticulous distance. He refused to approach more than necessary.
Whenever Jeong Yeon-shin seemed to gather his energy, So-ga-ju immediately disrupted him with a probing strike.
It appeared he was wary of the incomplete palm technique Jeong Yeon-shin had deliberately displayed earlier. The boy suddenly opened his mouth.
“That’s why you speak of freedom.”
“Hm?”
“Your fighting style. It’s stifling. You’re bound by a particular method.”
“You’re quite provocative.”
So-ga-ju smirked faintly. He didn’t seem to have realized anything profound.
However, his sword stance changed.
Boom!
The expansive domain of the Emperor Sword Form condensed like a storm, centering around So-ga-ju’s blade.
The energy, now compact and heavy, felt overwhelmingly oppressive. It had transformed from a wide-area technique into one focused on precise, lethal execution.
The aura commanded authority.
It issued orders to the sword itself.
Despite not being a member of the Zhu royal family, So-ga-ju’s swordsmanship exuded imperial majesty. The blade strikes came relentlessly.
Crash!
The initial impact alone was overwhelming. The shockwaves from his blade reverberated violently, as though intent on severing Jeong Yeon-shin’s grip.
Even the blade of the Ipwang Sword trembled as though on the verge of breaking. Jeong Yeon-shin was helplessly pushed back. But then he realized—this was the moment to turn the tide.
He prepared his left hand, simultaneously activating Demon-Destroying Azure Subjugation Energy and Mara’s Roaring Blood Technique.
Jeong Yeon-shin felt the energy radiating indiscriminately from his body. There was no way So-ga-ju wouldn’t sense it.
Boom!
Indeed, So-ga-ju surged forward in a straight line with heavy footfalls. His presence loomed large, accompanied by the gusting winds of his overwhelming energy. The Namgung Clan’s Blade was in tow.
Jeong Yeon-shin stepped firmly into Hwanikbo. So-ga-ju, knowing the efficacy of the footwork, adjusted his sword trajectory to protect his strike.
At that moment.
Jeong Yeon-shin slipped through the gap. He passed to the outside. It was the initial step of Hwanikbo, Hwanikilbo, meant to break open confined spaces.
He raised his left hand. The energies of blood and spiritual power were in chaos.
Even gathering them into a cohesive formation posed a challenge. Constructing a complete palm technique would take time.
‘It doesn’t matter.’
He extended his hand directly. As So-ga-ju’s sword passed beside him, Jeong Yeon-shin lightly flicked his fingers against the blade, as if mocking the Emperor Sword Form.
But this was a facade. Jeong Yeon-shin’s upper dantian burned brightly in his mind. He constantly adjusted the angle of his left hand.
The energies of blood and spiritual power refined themselves within the domain of So-ga-ju’s immense internal force. In an instant, he synchronized his palm technique with So-ga-ju’s overwhelming aura.
Whoosh!
The Emperor Sword Form’s energy ignited in reverse. A torrent of force erupted from Jeong Yeon-shin’s palm center.
The energies coalesced rapidly to their peak. One step of the palm technique’s process was bypassed in an instant.
“Hup!”
So-ga-ju turned immediately. His rapid movements advanced the collision.
Spinning, he continued his attack. The rotational sword strike disarmed Jeong Yeon-shin, sending the Ipwang Sword flying. The vibrations numbed his hand.
But Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t hesitate. He thrust his left hand toward So-ga-ju’s side.
And unleashed the palm technique.
BOOM!
The explosion occurred at close range. For a moment, it felt as if Qingya Valley itself was shaking.
The deafening roar echoed endlessly, reverberating like thunder.
Jeong Yeon-shin staggered back under the immense recoil.
It was as if a thunderbolt had erupted from his left hand. The strength was leagues beyond what he had achieved during his sparring matches with Namgung Hwa-shin.
At that moment.
“Uwaaaaah—!”
A scream tore through the air.
Jeong Yeon-shin, gripping his sword, heard a scream erupting from the direction of the Namgung Clan.
It wasn’t just one voice. It sounded like mid-tier experts, all of whom were more skilled than the boy in inner energy techniques.
Soon, Jeong Yeon-shin saw it himself.
“......”
He remained silent. It was necessary.
The side of So-ga-ju’s waist had been blown away, leaving nothing. Not even blood spilled from the wound.
It was a fatal injury. The fact that he was still standing upright seemed unnatural.
Was the divine energy of Emperor Divine Art protecting his body? In that moment, Jeong Yeon-shin momentarily forgot his own martial techniques, awestruck by the sheer dignity and willpower radiating from So-ga-ju.
He seemed to have transcended into another realm entirely.
Then it happened.
“Stop!”
So-ga-ju shouted. His voice rang with unparalleled clarity, and his bright eyes gleamed with an almost divine light.
He took in the Namgung Clan martial artists, who had been charging at Jeong Yeon-shin with murderous intent, in a single sweeping gaze.
His grace stood in stark contrast to Namgung Mi’s. Many had abandoned the terms of the duel and sought to kill Jeong Yeon-shin outright.
Namgung Se-jin, the Azure Qilin, spoke again.
“Even if my movements were restricted by the title of So-ga-ju...”
A long, labored breath followed.
“The end of Namgung Se-jin, the martial artist, shall be decided by me.”
“......”
Namgung Se-jin exuded an aura as if possessed by a god. All those present fell silent as he spoke slowly.
“Do not defile my death.”
Then, he slowly turned his gaze, his eyes filled with fierce determination as they fixed on his final opponent.
“What is the name of that technique?”
Jeong Yeon-shin understood the question. Without hesitation, he opened his lips.
“It has no name.”
“That is fortunate. A name came to mind.”
“Please, tell me.”
“Would you call it Hwan River (환강)? Right now, before my eyes, it feels as if the waters of the River Styx are glowing brilliantly. Perhaps it’s my heart, filled with joy, that makes them burn so brightly. The character Hwan (奐), meaning ‘radiant,’ seems fitting.”
“......”
“It is a martial art destined to be spoken of as the greatest under the heavens. I can feel it. Will you use the name I’ve given it?”
“I will say this: Time-Blossom Limitless Palm (時華無極手), Hwan River. If anyone asks, that’s how I’ll answer.”
Jeong Yeon-shin replied calmly.
“Good....”
“You seem to hope it will become widely known, and I too must wander the vast martial world. It’s in my nature. I cannot do otherwise.”
The boy’s words grew longer.
Was it clumsy consolation that resonated? Namgung Se-jin gave a faint smile.
“Yes... so be it. Roam freely....”
Jeong Yeon-shin thought to himself. He could never truly understand the inner turmoil of the Azure Qilin, who had lived as So-ga-ju.
In his final moments.
At the end of his life, he did not look at the people of his clan.
He died as a man walking the martial path, his eyes fixed solely on Seomye, the warrior who had defeated him.
His faint breathing grew weaker until, at last, it scattered completely.
Slowly.
He stopped breathing with his eyes open. His lifeless gaze remained intense, infused with the lingering power of his inner strength.
“......”
Namgung Se-jin’s death left a deep impression on Jeong Yeon-shin as well.
Beyond one’s lifespan, what else should a martial artist pursue? Was a martial artist’s only value their life?
The Azure Qilin, who had stood firmly upon the earth, fell slowly.
Thud!
“He’s... dead?”
“So-ga-ju... So-ga-ju is...”
“Quickly... quickly!”
“Move! This is urgent!”
The scene erupted into chaos.
Thunderous cries filled the air as an enormous crowd began to spill out of Qingya Valley.
Carrier pigeons flapped their wings frantically, taking off from all directions. The weight of Namgung Se-jin’s death far eclipsed that of Namgung Mi. This event would alter the balance of the martial world.
All eyes in the martial world were now fixed on this moment.
Jeong Yeon-shin, the victor, stood where Namgung Se-jin fell, unable to support him in time.
As winds whipped through the valley, carrying the lingering waves of energy from every direction, the boy stood firm against the gale, gripping his sword in silence.
The golden characters for Hwang (荒) on his shoulder shimmered in the sunlight.
The fierce winds of the canyon lifted the hem of his blue robe repeatedly.
It was the moment Seomye’s moniker was etched into the nine provinces of the martial world.
His renown.
Its beginnings weren’t distant. The moment Jeong Yeon-shin turned his head, he could feel it immediately.