CHAPTER 185

Jung Yeonshin's thoughts flowed like lightning. Despite his long, flowing hair, the crown of his head felt cool.

His fully opened Baihui Acupoint allowed an endless stream of thoughts.

An intuition struck him—if the match lasted too long, he would undoubtedly lose. The sensation in his Upper Dantian told him so.

The atmosphere surrounding the large dueling stage reflected that same sentiment. He had caught a glimpse of it when he stepped onto the platform.

The expressions of the seasoned elders from the renowned Murim clans were surprisingly composed.

It was as if, after observing twenty-three matches, they had already formed their judgment of Radiant Demon Squad's prodigy, Lightning Genius.

'I know better.'

His opponent was a swordsman counted among the best in Mount Hua Sect, the domain of the Sword Immortals.

He didn't anticipate two exchanges because he was superior. He thought of them because he was at a disadvantage.

The nature of battle was as diverse as the martial arts scattered across the world. A vast array of possibilities existed.

Some battles were decided in a single exchange, while others stretched over hundreds of moves. It was not uncommon for those possessing both external martial arts and refined energy reserves to fight through the night.

'The number of sword techniques the Swordmaster has honed must be enormous. He must have mastered them as deeply as his years.'

It was said he was on par with Ma Jin before he lost his arm. A newly appointed Black Robe had no business dueling him for long.

The reason was simple—his years of training in Mount Hua's supreme swordsmanship.

As one ascended the path of martial prowess, the world they occupied grew wider. The round table where the Desolate Fortress' squad leaders sat, the First Sword Hall of Wonpyeong—both had proven that.

The domain of Black Robes was more vast than anything he had ever experienced. Just looking at the Heavenly Sage of Mount Hua confirmed it.

"Hmm."

The middle-aged swordsman's eyes narrowed, and his presence suddenly loomed larger.

The young Radiant Demon Squad gripped his raised sword tightly, shortening the distance with a single leap from Wind Body technique.

Hwaaak!

A fierce gust swept across his face. The brief moment he hung in the air felt unusually long.

Before his feet even touched the ground, Jung Yeonshin slashed his sword downward. A gleaming light trailed behind the blade as it descended.

An unnamed first strike, a swift sword technique honed through cutting down over a hundred martial artists of the Profound Martial Alliance.

No matter where he struck, his sword intent would be strengthened. He could land an attack anywhere first.

A pressure akin to the King-Style Sword Arts surged forward, driving his opponent back. The downward stroke followed immediately.

Jjeo-eong!

Sparks exploded violently. A harsh tremor jolted his grip, nearly making him lose hold of his sword.

Even though he had unleashed an extreme Swift Sword technique with full freedom, the Heavenly Sage blocked it by holding his sword horizontally.

The Plum Blossom Sword Style's offensive had barely been a fraction late, yet the Sage had already transitioned into a defensive stance.

Between the two clashing swords, a formless, colorless flower shattered into countless fragments. A sign of profound mastery in sword technique.

It became a contest of sword power. Jung Yeonshin, now grounded, tightened his grip on his sword hilt.

The radiant energy flowing from the wheel of light within his heart surged through his acupoint at the soles of his feet, pressing into the ground.

The dueling stage's floor slightly crumbled beneath his stance.

Then—

Swoosh.

The Heavenly Sage slightly turned his foot. A minuscule sidestep. Fine dirt scattered beneath the white silk shoes.

A faint mist of dust rose, rippling with the force of his energy.

Thousand-Petal Plum Blossom Steps.

Their locked swords twisted. With that tiny footwork, the Sage diverted Jung Yeonshin's sword force. The way he spun in response resembled fluttering petals—elegant and fluid.

The Taoist and the young swordsman each traced a circular arc with their blades. Sunlight wavered upon the gleaming sword edges as they brushed past one another's robes.

A harmonious exchange between master swordsmen.

Their movements felt entirely natural, as if rehearsed. Yet, at the same time, energy waves sprouted beneath the Sage's feet.

They rose straight like the trunk of a plum tree. The footwork-generated energy climbed up his pants, settling strength into his lower body.

It happened in an instant. Before Jung Yeonshin could unfold his next technique, the Sage's sword trembled at a blistering speed.

The blade accelerated with violent swiftness. The Sage's sword strike swept horizontally, carrying the energy from his footwork.

Saaaak—!

The opening move of Plum Blossom Butterfly Dance stirred the air with a sharp wind. Jung Yeonshin threw himself backward, nearly lying down.

Iron Bridge Technique. His vision filled with the flat of the sword. The sun was momentarily obscured as it slashed above his nose.

A portion of his unbound black hair, unable to descend in time, was severed in an instant. The formless energy surrounding the blade was as keen as a divine sword.

'The side is open.'

The Sage's flank was exposed. The young swordsman's eyes flashed. He directed his radiant energy into his Yishe Acupoint along his spine.

[NOTE - Yishe acupoint clears Damp-Heat, characterized by dark urine, general heat in the body as well as yellow face and eyes. It also regulates the Stomach and Spleen.]

The erector muscles along his back tightened with a surge of energy. A movement reserved for masters. He straightened his torso immediately.

While channeling a mnemonic verse into his left fist, he launched the third move of Infinite Blossom Fist.

Flower Strike.

Hwoook!

An intangible wave of energy burst from his fist, blooming like clusters of flowers.

As force clashed with force, an additional wave of energy formed. A close-range fist strike.

Kugu-goong!

It met the Sage's left hand. An open palm absorbed the impact, its shape distorting like a floral imprint.

A shockwave rustled his sleeves, a vibration deep enough to shake bones. The Mount Hua Sect's Falling Blossoms Palm Strike. It dismantled the force of Flower Strike one by one.

The Sage's harmonized essence, energy, and spirit allowed his internal power to outpace the young swordsman's by half a beat. The residual echoes of his fist vanished entirely.

Pain shot up his outstretched wrist. The difference in level was clear—this was a polished martial art honed over years.

"I recognize that fist technique. It resembles our sect's lineage."

The Sage spoke as he gathered strength into his palm.

Kung!

The final strike resounded. The repeated collisions forced the young swordsman's body to slide backward.

His dark hair and robes fluttered from the recoil.

A gap formed between the two masters. The soft dust at their feet quietly settled.

Then the spectators reacted—the crowds filling the watchtower and the viewing stands.

"…The shockwave reached all the way here, grazing our faces. And yet we saw nothing."

"Are they truly human?"

"These are peak experts of the Nine Great Sects and the Desolate Fortress. They have long surpassed mortal limits…!"

Witnessing a battle at this level even once in a lifetime was a rare privilege.

Yet, the young Radiant Demon Squad leader's gaze remained cold.

This was the fourth exchange.

For the first time, he had failed in a short-term duel. The Swordmaster of Mount Hua was a martial artist in his complete form.

The walls of the Nine Great Sects were as high as their chivalry. They called the unity of martial arts (武) and the Way (道) "Mudo."

It was a depth unlike that of martial families. A different level of martial arts.

Jung Yeonshin had sensed it the moment he stepped onto the stage.

From the Sage's posture to the dense, ceaseless ripples of internal energy, everything exuded mastery.

His own abilities were not yet comparable to the swordmasters of the Nine Great Sects. That much was clear.

It wasn't strange. The leader of the Plum Blossom Swordsmen carried such authority. For generations, the position had been recognized, representing the Mount Hua Sect as a revered swordsman among the martial world. In the current era, he was a match for Ma Jin.

A transcendent swordsman who had mastered Three Flowers Gathering at the Crown.

There was a significant age gap. Unlike the boy, Sage Cheon Joo had achieved the unification of Energy, Essence, and Spirit.

He had synchronized his body, internal energy, and the spiritual core in his upper dantian, allowing energy to move with thought alone—a realm many of the Desolate Fortress' elites had reached.

Jung Yeonshin's own strength was notable for the abnormal energy concentration in his upper dantian, but it wasn't yet at that level.

Given that his opponent was the Sage of Mount Hua, the disparity in martial prowess was expected.

Even the Dragon Slayer Alliance's leadership was wary of the Nine Great Sects. However, they acknowledged their martial prowess, evident in how they had positioned Radiant Demon Squad Leader as a key obstacle in their plans during the Sect Wars.

Even the lowly gamblers gathered here knew the power of martial techniques honed over centuries. It was an undeniable force.

Jung Yeonshin couldn't help but feel puzzled. He should have been overwhelmed by now.

If Sage Cheon Joo's abilities were as they appeared, then Jung Yeonshin would be hard-pressed to handle him.

However, the Falling Blossoms Palm Strike hadn't fully broken through the Infinite Blossom Fist Strike. Despite Sage Cheon Joo's lack of restraint, they seemed almost evenly matched.

'You were injured from the start.'

The boy realized it then. It was the only explanation. He had discovered a fact no one else had noticed.

This naturally raised a question. What kind of opponent had inflicted such an injury on him?

Had Sage Cheon Joo noticed his realization? He spoke.

"We are equals, given the current conditions. Only our skills remain to be tested."

"…"

This was something only another master of the Radiant Demon Squad could understand.

In this domain of the elite, Jung Yeonshin's experience was shallow, and Sage Cheon Joo was wounded.

Thus, they were equals—for now. Sage Cheon Joo's grip on his sword suggested he truly believed this. The dignified nature of the Nine Great Sects was on full display.

The crowd surrounding the stage held their breath, watching the standoff between the two masters.

Those with broad knowledge and those with narrow knowledge, seasoned martial artists who had trained their entire lives, and commoners who knew nothing about combat—all were witnessing a spectacle that might never be repeated.

Only the elders of the great clans gazed intently, their eyes reflecting depth and contemplation.

Zhuge Clan's leader finally broke the silence.

"The Radiant Demon Squad Leader's internal energy is stronger than I anticipated. I didn't think he could match Sage Cheon Joo's inner strength. And this is without mastering the direct line's Violet Dawn Sacred Arts."

"It doesn't matter." 

Murong Clan's leader replied, his eyes gleaming with confidence. 

"The Sage's sword techniques are as extraordinary as ever. Radiant Demon Squad Leader won't last long."

They didn't look at each other, maintaining focus on the duel.

Zhuge Clan's leader continued.

"Radiant Demon Squad Leader's first sword technique was remarkable even to me. His control over distance was impressive, extending beyond ordinary understanding. But the fact that he transitioned to palm strikes for the second technique suggests something…"

"It means he doesn't have many advanced sword techniques." 

Murong Clan's leader said with certainty. 

"His swordsmanship is shallow, lacking the depth of a renowned style. True mastery requires years of experience, building techniques capable of responding to any situation, even close combat. If the boy confronts him head-on, he'll lose within five exchanges. If he retreats, he'll forfeit his honor."

Murong Clan's leader spoke with conviction, and Zhuge Clan's leader nodded in agreement.

"The end is near. Eun Clan's First Fist won't even get a turn. Regardless, the Radiant Demon Squad Leader has displayed enough to bring honor to the Desolate Fortress. The Murim Alliance's loss is clear."

"At least the Revitalization Pill won't end up in the hands of the imperial hounds." 

Murong Clan's leader added.

"Qing-ya may step down from her duties."

Zhuge Clan Leader spoke.

Zhuge Qing-ya, seated behind him, felt her breath hitch.

Her fingers, which had been anxiously combing through her long, jet-black hair, froze in place.

The finely combed ends of her dark hair trembled slightly.

"I'm disappointed. With such accomplishments in Sight Arts, you discovered nothing? Had the duel not unfolded as it did, you would have faced severe consequences. Foolish child."

"…I apologize." 

The girl answered quietly.

Lady Ye, seated nearby, paid them no attention.

Her red irises, concealed behind a white blindfold, remained fixed solely on the dueling stage.

She brushed her pale fingers against her cheek, sending a voice transmission to Ye Clan Leader beside her.

— How much would it cost to sabotage that match?

— I believe this is not a matter of money.

— My Taesa was creating a new sword technique. A trivial place like this means nothing. I'm too excited—what's the point of watching this? Have you bought off that mongrel from Eun Clan?

— We are making covert approaches, but he is unresponsive. A budget beyond our initial estimate may be required. This should be avoided. If we siphon more funds, it may strain relations between our sect and the Ye Clan…

— Forget it. Just prepare a thick fabric. I will now be at Taesa's side.

While countless discussions unfolded among the spectators, Jung Yeonshin and the Heavenly Sage continued their exchange.

With their swords lowered, they spoke while measuring the distance between them.

The two of them moved in a slow, circular trajectory.

"You said Ma Jin is unharmed. Now that we have crossed blades, I see it clearly. You hold resentment within you. You've buried it deep in your grip. Yet, it is regrettable—I cannot yield."

"…"

"The Nine Great Sects could not remain uninvolved with the Murim Alliance. The righteous Murim cannot act recklessly under the guise of its name. That is why the Sect Leader sent me."

To keep the martial families in check.

The Heavenly Sage carried the weight of his own principles.

If the formation of the Murim Alliance was inevitable, he sought to ensure that its strength was guided in the right direction.

For that to be possible, the Nine Great Sects had to emerge victorious in this public spectacle.

"I shall respect you, and I shall not lower my guard."

His crisp voice echoed, unfazed by his middle-aged appearance. Such clarity was proof of an immensely refined inner force.

Swoosh.

The Heavenly Sage reversed his grip on his longsword. His footsteps halted.

On the long sword blade, an invisible flow of energy condensed like budding flowers.

It carried the overwhelming presence of boundless, honed inner power.

The prelude to his sword technique was breathtaking, so elegant that it felt almost like sorcery.

"Dark Fragrance Drifting Blossoms "

A voice, tinged with admiration, came from the Murim Alliance's leadership.

It seemed someone had unconsciously spoken the name of the technique.

A well-known swordplay.

Jung Yeonshin recalled hearing of it before—a single sword technique that encapsulated all the profundities of the Plum Blossom Sword Art.

After countless discussions with the neighboring Zhongnan Sect, they had each developed their own supreme sword techniques.

The young swordsman silently observed the Heavenly Sage's poised stance.

The speed of his internal energy circulation was extraordinary.

The opportunity to disrupt his preparation had passed in an instant.

The moment he invoked his aura, the sword technique was already complete.

"Step forward. This is a righteous duel of the orthodox faction."

The Heavenly Sage spoke quietly.

The world was not an easy place.

The youngest Black Robe felt that more than ever.

Everyone had a clear stance. This was a battlefield where legitimate causes clashed.

Mount Hua Sect, unlike Shaolin or Wudang, actively intervened in worldly affairs.

They sought neither wealth nor power, only the stability of the people.

Despite being among the strongest of the Nine Great Sects, they upheld this stance.

It was something worthy of respect. No one could refute them.

But that also applied to the boy, who wished only to care for his ailing grandfather.

The heart of a grandson, who had never known familial love, was just as pure as theirs.

'I want to live happily.'

Facing the Swordmaster, Jung Yeonshin felt the world around him.

The Upper Dantian in his mind resonated with nature itself.

A strand of indifferent providence struck his Baihui Acupoint, forcing him to reconsider the turbulent Jianghu.

'That sky…'

It had stripped him of his lifespan, only to grant him talent as a mere compensation.

When he tried to reclaim his fate, it took his uncle's arm. Now, it sought to claim his grandfather's life.

Such was the world of Jianghu.

Even a righteous swordsman of the Nine Great Sects stood in his way. The affairs of Murim were entangled in its own interests.

The tempestuous youth resented the hardships of life.

There were times when the world he fought against felt unbearably heavy.

That was why he named his Heart Technique "Transcending Law".

To make things a little easier, to live just a little longer.

Wuuuung.

At this moment, what began to take root in his hands was no different.

A singular, sharpened thought.

Pure will, echoing through his entire network of meridians as a mnemonic verse.

Even if the immutable laws of all existence tried to bind him, he would one day surpass them.

The boy murmured to himself.

To the heavens, with the arrogance of one who had never known the limits of martial creation.

— Do not stop me.

He muttered inwardly.

He thought of his grandfather, wreathed in blue flames.

'That whisper…'

Blossomed into radiant light within his mind.

A flower bud formed from pure illumination.

Just as the Swordmaster glimpsed Jung Yeonshin's intent, the boy, too, perceived the hardships the Swordmaster had endured through his Plum Blossom Swordplay.

Beyond it, he saw the flickering remnants of the azure flames his grandfather had once ignited at the cost of his own life.

Swoosh.

He grasped the Beiming Sword with both hands and raised it before him.

A slow exhale traveled along the blade, condensing into a faint white mist.

From his breath, the glow of Transcending Law Radiant Wheel seeped out.

The boy's lips parted.

"May my steps in Jianghu never falter."

In that moment, the young Grandmaster placed his wishes upon a single sword.

Wuuung!

A luminous flower bloomed within his mind. A radiant trajectory manifested in his Upper Dantian.

Extreme willpower had transformed into a divine essence—what was known as 'spirituality'.

Something that could turn a dull iron rod into an unbreakable divine sword…

It coursed through his arms, traveling along the meridians to his Laogong Acupoints.

Auspicious spirituality enshrouded the flow of his energy.

"Hmm…"

The Heavenly Sage, who had waited patiently, let out a soft hum.

The sheer presence of the boy's sword stance was blinding.

The waves that resonated against his senses signified the birth of an unprecedented sword technique.

The mysteries of Jianghu.

A moment when the Grandmaster tore open the heavens.

A stance that encapsulated divine skill had begun to bloom.

Sensing that the momentum had reached its peak, the Heavenly Sage struck first.

A horizontal slash, empowered by Hidden Fragrance Drift's Body Sutra.

A shockwave silently erupted from his Yongchun Acupoint, sending his white robe fluttering like an ethereal fragrance.

Wuuuuung!

His sword trajectory shredded through the air.

A semi-transparent wave of sword energy surged like gathering clouds.

Colorless blossoms of concentrated energy bloomed along the blade—Mount Hua's Dark Fragrance Drifting Blossoms.

The essence of Plum Blossom Swordplay unfolded in dozens of piercing sword lights.

A master's strike, barreling toward Jung Yeonshin.

Kwaaak—!

The aftermath engulfed his upper body in an instant.

The crowd gasped.

Lady Ye tore away from Ye Clan Leader's grasp and rose toward the dueling stage.

At that moment, the boy shifted his hands in accordance with the sword path engraved in his mind.

A Twin-Sword Technique.

The Beiming Sword, now dyed a vibrant blue, was already in motion.

Black sleeves fluttered, creating layers of illusions as his arms extended. Transparent internal energy coiled around them, intertwining with the blade.

This was the Third Blossom of an unnamed sword technique. A continuous beam of light was etched across the surface of Dark Fragrance Drifting Blossoms, slicing straight through.

Zzeojeojeojeong—!

The vibrations surging through his hands were overwhelming, as if his grip was on the verge of tearing apart. The deafening resonance of the sword echoed mercilessly in his ears.

But the boy pressed on, unbothered. His sword burst forward—clean, yet forceful.

It deflected opposing sword energy, shattered the blossoming buds of force from his opponent, and disrupted the flowing sword path that followed.

The Beiming Sword's trajectory curved and warped in a single stroke. It all happened within a fraction of a moment. Finally, the Sword Sage of Mount Hua let out a sigh as the edge of the duel was reached.

A dull sensation traveled through the blade as it made contact. The boy immediately released the tension from his hands.

The opposing waves of sword energy dispersed like scattered leaves around his arms.

And then—

The plum blossom mist of Dark Fragrance Drifting Blossoms slowly descended, dissipating.

"Gasp!"

Someone outside the martial stage exhaled sharply, breaking the collective silence.

The battle had come to an end.

The front of Jung Yeonshin's tunic was torn wide open, the cut running from his chest down to his waist. His black outer robe and inner garment were nearly stripped off his body.

Two thin, precise sword wounds were etched into his solid pectorals.

The cuts were clean and shallow, as though they would heal quickly, but bright red blood trickled visibly down his chiseled abs.

The lower legs of his black combat uniform darkened as the blood soaked through.

Meanwhile, Sage Cheon Joo, who lowered his sword, remained immaculate. Only the collar of his white robe had been slashed, fraying at the edges.

However, the boy's sword hovered above the Sage's neck. The tip of the blade cast its shadow on the nape of his neck, signifying dominance in their exchange. The precision of the boy's sword strike was unmistakable.

After a brief moment of silent observation, Sage Cheon Joo finally spoke, his eyes deep and still, like an abyss.

"There was an unfamiliar touch in your elegant movements. I recognize that you created that sword form here, on this very stage. With a single strike, you've shown me the resolve of Ma Jin."

"…"

"What is the name of that technique? If it doesn't yet have one…"

"Azure Flame First Form."

The young leader of the Radiant Demon Squad sheathed his sword as he answered.

"There is nothing beyond that."

"…"

Silence engulfed the surroundings as the wind stirred, gently rustling through the stage.

The young leader closed his eyes, standing bare-chested amidst the stillness.

Strands of his hair danced carelessly across his shoulders, brushing against his exposed skin.