23.The Sword’s Retaliation

Lee Do-Hyun's growth had been rapid—far faster than anyone could have anticipated. His skill with the blade, honed through countless battles, had begun to solidify into something formidable. Yet, in the vast expanse of the Martial World, he was still a fledgling swordsman.

Against veterans who had weathered decades of combat, a single misstep could mean death.

 A Mistake in the Heat of Battle

Kim Pung struck with ruthless precision.

His sword surged forward like a serpent, breaking through Do-Hyun's defense with terrifying speed. Reflexively, Do-Hyun raised his blade to counter, but hesitation—brief as it was—slowed his reaction by a fraction of a second.

And in the Martial World, a fraction of a second was the difference between survival and death.

The blade lunged for his side. His stance faltered. His mind screamed for movement, but his body was too slow.

Then—the Black Cloud Sword moved on its own.

The Sword's Will Awakens

The ego within the sword surged to life, acting independently of its master's commands. It wasn't responding to conscious thought—it was reacting to Do-Hyun's sheer instinct to survive.

The blade twisted in his grip, adjusting his posture by the slightest margin—just enough for the incoming strike to glance off instead of cutting deep.

For a heartbeat, Do-Hyun hesitated.

 Did the sword… just protect me?

Instead of fighting the blade's will, he made a choice—

He trusted it.

This time, he stopped trying to dominate the sword.

He moved with it.

Letting the blade guide him as naturally as breath itself.

 Kim Pung's Relentless Assault

Kim Pung didn't hesitate. He sensed his opponent's faltering and seized the moment, unleashing a relentless barrage of strikes meant to corner Do-Hyun and break his defense completely.

But Do-Hyun didn't retreat.

The Black Cloud Sword no longer felt like a rebellious tool. It was an extension of his will now—each movement precise, fluid, and reactive before conscious thought even caught up.

For every attack Kim Pung threw, Do-Hyun's blade answered—not with raw power but with perfect timing and intention.

Kim Pung's frustration built like a storm. Gathering his Qi, his blade began to glow, thick with destructive energy. His killing intent surged, forming an aura that crackled with raw force.

 "This ends now!"

 Summoning the Infernal Phoenix

Do-Hyun didn't waver. He could feel it—the sword was ready.

For the first time, instead of tapping into its power cautiously, he reached for it with certainty. The connection between man and blade became seamless.

 "Summon the Infernal Phoenix."

The power surged forth—not forced, but called willingly. Flames erupted from the blade, coiling and twisting before coalescing into a fiery, majestic form—the Infernal Phoenix.

The firebird roared to life, diving toward Kim Pung's overwhelming Qi, their energies clashing with a deafening shockwave that rocked the entire hall.

The oppressive heat burned through Kim Pung's defenses. His aura, once imposing, began to crumble under the raw fury of Do-Hyun's flames.

The Final Strike

Kim Pung staggered, beads of sweat trailing down his face as his strength faltered.

Do-Hyun didn't hesitate.

With precision honed by battle and instinct sharpened by survival, he closed the distance between them. His blade struck like lightning—swift, clean, and decisive.

Kim Pung's sword fell from his hands. The once-proud warrior dropped to his knees, his breath shallow, realization dawning in his eyes.

 "I've lost."

 The Master of the Sword

Do-Hyun stood over him, his blade resting lightly against Kim Pung's shoulder—not with malice, but with finality.

 "This sword is mine now."

The words weren't for Kim Pung—they were for himself.

The Black Cloud Sword was no longer an unwieldy burden haunted by the echoes of its past master. It was no longer an artifact of another's will.

It was his.

 His conviction.

 His strength.

 His weapon.

In that moment, Lee Do-Hyun was no longer merely a swordsman wielding a blade.

He was the master of the Black Cloud Sword.

And the Martial World would soon come to understand what that truly meant.

**********

The Aftermath of the Duel

A heavy silence filled the banquet hall before it was shattered by a wave of thunderous applause. The gathered warriors, still reeling from the intensity of the duel, erupted in awe and excitement. The fiery phoenix summoned by Lee Do-Hyun had not only overpowered Kim Pung's sword energy but had also solidified his place as a rising force in the martial world.

"The Black Cloud Sword… Truly a fearsome blade."

"Lee Do-Hyun… That power is something we've never seen before."

"Kim Pung, bested so decisively? It won't be long before Lee Do-Hyun's name echoes across all of Kangho."

Murmurs and speculation quickly rippled through the crowd. Warriors whispered among themselves, their expressions a mixture of admiration and disbelief. Despite the attention, Do-Hyun remained composed, offering only a modest bow to acknowledge the applause.

Yet, rather than bask in his victory, his gaze turned toward Kim Pung. Without hesitation, Do-Hyun extended a hand—sincere and respectful.

"You fought well, Brother Kim. I appreciate the challenge."

Kim Pung, though momentarily stunned, let out a small chuckle. Instead of resentment, a sense of respect glimmered in his eyes as he accepted the handshake with a firm grip.

"That was… an interesting duel indeed. You're far stronger than I had anticipated," he admitted, his voice carrying genuine admiration.

There was no bitterness, no bruised ego—only the shared understanding of warriors who recognized each other's strength. The gesture didn't go unnoticed by the onlookers; in that moment, it became clear that true strength wasn't just raw power but also the humility to honor an opponent.

The banquet's host, seizing the opportunity to lift the mood, stepped forward with a booming voice.

"To commemorate this spectacular match, I shall serve my finest wine to all our honored guests! Let us celebrate not only strength but the spirit of camaraderie!"

With that, the hall quickly transformed. Cups clinked, laughter rang out, and the tension from the earlier battle melted into joyous celebration. The air was thick with shared respect, and even rival factions momentarily set aside their differences to join in the revelry.

Yet, amid the festivities, one figure remained detached—an observer hidden in the shadows.

Mi-Ryeong, standing apart from the crowds, had watched every moment of the duel with unblinking focus. Her eyes didn't just witness Do-Hyun's victory; they studied his technique, the seamless way his will resonated with the Black Cloud Sword—how his movements had shifted from hesitant control to complete mastery.

The synchronization between man and blade wasn't just talent; it was something deeper.

"The Ego Blade… It's not supposed to submit so easily," she thought silently.

"And yet, he wields it as if it was made for him."

Her gaze sharpened with suspicion and curiosity. She had met countless warriors in Kangho, but none like him. His style was unconventional, his presence an enigma.

"Who are you, Lee Do-Hyun?"

It wasn't just his swordsmanship—it was the aura surrounding him. He didn't seem to belong entirely to the martial world, and yet, he was shaping its future with every step.

Was their meeting mere coincidence?

No.

Mi-Ryeong's instincts screamed that there was something greater at play—an unseen force guiding their paths toward something inevitable.

And in that realization, a single thought burned in her mind:

"If his blade continues to grow, will I be able to stop him when the time comes?"