Jin Cheon-hee loosened his limbs, shaking out the tension with practiced ease.
“I’ll start with Cheon Woo. What will it be? The sword or the fist?”
“I will use the sword.”
Despite the moniker ‘One-Eyed Iron Fist,’ Cheon Woo possessed a formidable aptitude for the blade. The irony of his title likely stemmed from the influence of the Wudang Fist Emperor, or perhaps a simpler truth: he used his fists to beat men into submission when he wished to spare them, reserving the sword only for those he intended to kill.
Cheon Woo retrieved a blunted iron waster from the rack. It was a heavy, dull thing, yet in the hands of a giant, it looked like a toy.
At least the ‘Wudang Iron Fist’ would have been a respectable title, Jin Cheon-hee mused. But ‘One-Eyed Iron Fist’? It sounds like a bandit warlord from the Unorthodox Factions.
“Cheon Woo. Show me the spirit of Wudang,” Jin Cheon-hee commanded, his voice carrying across the training grounds. “Display the profound principle of Taiji so clearly that a blind man could sense the Wudang lineage from a mile away.”
“Understood, Hyung.”
Cheon Woo’s single eye narrowed, sharpening with focus. He settled into a deep stance, inhaling slowly, only to find that the brother standing opposite him hadn’t even bothered to draw his weapon. Jin Cheon-hee stood with both hands tucked into his sleeves, his posture riddled with deliberate openings, offering a serene, infuriating smile.
Just how relaxed is he?
It was a rare soul who could maintain such nonchalance while staring down a giant standing eight cheok tall.
“Don’t feel burdened. Come at me with everything you have.”
Jin Cheon-hee’s eyes shone a brilliant, crystalline blue. That, at least, was a small mercy; it meant he wasn’t completely underestimating his opponent.
Aura began to rise like incense smoke from the tip of Cheon Woo’s blade. Strangely, the aura of Wudang was not a solid, rigid construct. Though they could harden it if necessary, they adhered to the philosophy that softness overcomes hardness. It was a form where countless, microscopic threads of sword energy wove together to create a single, cohesive presence. Thus, the completed sword aura rippled like low-lying mist.
“You’ve become more flexible than before, haven’t you?” Jin Cheon-hee laughed.
“Is it acceptable to use an iron sword instead of wood?”
“ The edge is dull. Besides, if we are testing aura, wood is meaningless. It would either explode from the internal pressure or shatter on impact. A hit would be fatal regardless of the material.”
It was a cold truth.
In that instant, Cheon Woo’s massive frame launched forward.
Jin Cheon-hee took a single, measured breath.
Clang!
When had he drawn his sword? The movement had been faster than the eye could track.
Jin Cheon-hee’s blade parried the massive strike with effortless grace. Surprisingly, what he manifested was the perfect Taiji Wisdom Sword. Frost crystallized in the air, tracing the trajectory of his blade.
Mirroring him, Cheon Woo shifted his path to match with his own Taiji Wisdom Sword.
“Hoh?”
Sama Hyeon, watching from the sidelines, let out an involuntary sound of intrigue. Like two reflections in a mirror, yet distinct in their nature, the brothers unfolded the principles of Taiji against one another.
However, as the exchange continued, Cheon Woo realized his blade was not penetrating his brother’s defense. Jin Cheon-hee was going easy on him.
This hurts my pride more than I expected…
Cheon Woo immediately abandoned the contest of pure swordsmanship. Without hesitation, he unleashed the Supreme Purity Scattering Hands and the Ten-Sequenced Brocade Technique simultaneously.
“Wow, Cheon Woo. You’re really sharp today, aren’t you?”
The Supreme Purity Scattering Hands was a supreme divine art of hand techniques, while the Ten-Sequenced Brocade focused on palm strikes. To the uninitiated, combining two hand-based arts might seem simple, but to manifest them effectively required a mastery that dug deep into the bedrock of martial fundamentals. It demanded a lower body as immovable as a mountain to generate the necessary force.
Like an old master who had reached the Transformation Realm decades ago, Cheon Woo naturally wove the two supreme techniques into a storm of offense.
“Good. That—you used that well.”
Saying so, Jin Cheon-hee readjusted his grip. Funny enough, he didn’t hold it like a swordsman, but rather like a thug holding a club.
Ten-Sequenced Brocade Technique?
Boom!
Jin Cheon-hee neutralized Cheon Woo’s fist by launching his own Ten-Sequenced Brocade Technique—using the flat of his blade. Every time the Taiji energies clashed, Jin Cheon-hee invariably countered with the flat steel, turning the sword into a bludgeon of pure principle.
Clash! Thud! Bam-bam! Crash!
Dozens of exchanges erupted in the span of a single breath. As he launched attacks and frantically blocked counters, a realization dawned on Cheon Woo.
Brother is facing me with a method exactly half a step ahead of my own.
It was instructional sparring. The gap between them felt like a chasm.
“Hyung… Aren’t you too strong?”
“Yeah. Somehow, I ended up strong.”
Jin Cheon-hee smiled gently, his body flowing past the giant’s onslaught like water around a stone. The blunted sword drew elegant, lethal lines in the air. As he launched the final palm strike, Jin Cheon-hee spoke.
“I’ll end it.”
Rumble!
Cheon Woo saw it coming. The moment the sword made contact with his massive torso, Jin Cheon-hee pulled the strike back, dampening the lethal impact to a heavy shove.
Damn it!
Cheon Woo’s giant body was lifted off its feet, flying backward to roll across the dirt.
“You’ve become stronger, Cheon Woo, but you lack refinement,” Jin Cheon-hee said, watching him rise.
Cheon Woo stood up without a groan, dusting himself off. “Refinement?”
“Hm. Perhaps it is the cost of your eye. Your kinetic vision is likely unbeatable, but your sense of distance is rough. The lack of binocular vision is creating a blind spot in your depth perception.”
It was a defect even Cheon Woo hadn’t fully consciously realized.
Jin Cheon-hee tapped his chin in thought. “What can compensate for that is Qi Sense. You need to sharpen your Qi Sense until it sees better than eyes ever could… Since this falls into the realm of Zen meditation, you will do it with me.”
“Ugh…”
Cheon Woo’s face contorted. Training with his brother was effective, but the ‘hell training’ was infamous. It involved strange puzzles to increase cognitive ability, riddles that twisted the mind, and wooden dolls that moved with uncanny, inhuman jerks.
However, the results were undeniable. It was his brother who had pushed him into the Transformation Realm. If he said this would help him take another step, it was the truth.
Cheon Woo steeled himself. “I’ll do it. Hyung. I’ll do it!”
“Good attitude! Prepare to die once or twice, Cheon Woo! Since you’re my brother, I’ll give you the special curriculum!”
Jin Cheon-hee’s blue eyes sparkled with a terrifying enthusiasm.
***
The next challenger was Sama Hyeon.
He stood before Jin Cheon-hee, his knuckles cracking as he clenched and unclenched his fists—Cr-crack.
Sama Hyeon did not wield a sword. Instead, he wore the Heavenly Silkworm Gloves that Jin Cheon-hee had crafted for him. To him, these gloves were superior to any blade.
Brother doesn’t even look tired.
It was astounding that he could move seamlessly into the next match after such a high-intensity bout with Cheon Woo. It spoke to the terrifying regimen he subjected himself to daily—training that surpassed the rigorous standards of the great clans.
He sleeps two shichen a day, doesn’t he? It’s a mad lifestyle.
Researching, training, treating patients. Doing all three while managing the administrative burden of the Young Pavilion Master? It made one wonder if he was truly human. Yet, Jin Cheon-hee always smiled brightly, showing no sign of wear. Of course, that was only the surface. Sama Hyeon knew his brother was human; he had seen him waver, seen him precarious.
He uses ice-cold energy freely, even without the Ice Clarity Sword. Is a divine weapon merely a tool after all? Does its nature change according to the prowess of the user?
Sama Hyeon abandoned his calculations. The opponent in front of him was a man who advanced without a speck of delusion, moving only forward, never looking back.
Shallow tricks would not work against Jin Cheon-hee.
“Now, Hyeon. Are you ready?”
His brother intended to wait for the first move again. Just as he had with Cheon Woo.
Sama Hyeon smiled brightly. “Then I’m coming. Hyung~”
In that moment, Sama Hyeon’s fingertips turned a brilliant gold.
Thousand Changes Sword, Ten Thousand Skills, Thorough Face-Flaying Art.
It was an ability designed to crush not just human bone, but the very structure of aura itself. With this profound principle, he had torn off the Giant Horse’s leg and dealt a fatal blow to a Khan.
“Oh? You combined the Golden King’s Golden Hand to that?”
Jin Cheon-hee’s eyes shone with appreciation as he flowed past Sama Hyeon’s opening strike with the Taiji Wisdom Sword.
Thwack!
Clearly, Jin Cheon-hee’s aura was palpable at his fingertips, but the moment Sama Hyeon tried to tear into it, the energy melted away, scattering into nothingness. It was like trying to grasp falling snow; the harder he squeezed, the faster it vanished.
Sama Hyeon pressed the attack, a flurry of strikes. Jin Cheon-hee’s long sleeves billowed, creating a mesmerizing wall of variations.
Thwack, thud-thud, smack!
Blade-less attacks flowed around Sama Hyeon’s strikes, drifting and redirecting like water.
Digging in is difficult…
The sword slipped through his fingers. Sama Hyeon watched the defensive wall of variations, spotting a microscopic opening. He dove into the gap, extending his hand for the decisive blow.
One Move.
But the moment Sama Hyeon overcommitted, Jin Cheon-hee moved his leg as if he had been waiting for exactly this second. He swept Sama Hyeon’s calf.
Sama Hyeon’s center of gravity vanished, his body tipping backward.
Whump!
Jin Cheon-hee caught Sama Hyeon by the back before he hit the ground.
“You should have trained your lower body more, Hyeon.”
“Only Brother seems able to trip me with that kind of timing~”
“Oh, you learned the word ‘timing’ too?” Jin Cheon-hee’s eyes widened slightly in amusement.
Regardless, sparring was sparring. Jin Cheon-hee continued his critique. “There’s probably no one alive who can beat your grip strength. However, your speed is lacking. Reinforce the legs.”
Creak—
Sama Hyeon flexed his hand. “Hm, is my grip strength truly that good?”
“It’s an amazing talent. You might not feel it because of who you fight, but if you reinforce your speed, there won’t be anyone who can withstand your grasp.”
Sama Hyeon’s grip strength rivaled even the Khans of the steppes. It was a precious talent.
“Seeing you do instructional sparring against someone like me… Brother really isn’t human.”
“Hehehe. Really?” Jin Cheon-hee scratched his head, grinning like a fool. At times like this, the aura of the transcendent master vanished, leaving only an ordinary young man.
Suddenly, a eunuch sprinted toward them, breathless.
“Heroes! Great Heroes! The other Great Heroes have arrived~”
Though martial artists typically existed outside court etiquette, the eunuch spoke naturally, accustomed to their ways. Behind him, Tang Ah, Gongsun Yeong, and Wang Gak-yeon approached, each brandishing a large jar of alcohol.
“Hey! Why aren’t you guys drinking! Drink with us!”
***
One thing was certain: all three were heavy drinkers.
Tang Ah, Gongsun Yeong, and Wang Gak-yeon seemed perfectly fine consuming alcohol by the jar. If they showed even a hint of illness, Jin Cheon-hee would have nagged them into abstinence, but checking their pulses revealed they were the embodiment of healthy constitutions.
Unfortunately, every brother who drank with them ended up unconscious.
“Why aren’t you drinking!”
“Are you being stingy because you’re a physician?”
“Ah, grab Cheon-hee! Grab him!”
“Feed him!”
It was an ambush.
“Stop it! Stop it! Do you know how harmful alcohol is to the liver… I find it tasteless in the first place! Why drink that bitter poison?!”
It was a hellish ‘water ghost’ operation. Gongsun Yeong and Tang Ah restrained Jin Cheon-hee’s arms from behind, pinning him like a criminal, while Wang Gak-yeon poured the liquor down his throat.
Oh? Imperial alcohol is tastier than I thought…?
“Hey, don’t tell me you’re uncoolly removing the alcohol toxins with internal energy? Are you scared, Jin Cheon-hee?”
Damn it.
The martial artist’s pride surged, overriding the modern man’s logic. In that moment, giving up on detoxification, he realized he had no choice but to become their toy.
It was the Victory Ceremony of Hell. Or perhaps, just a drinking party of martial artists.
And just like that, the film cut to black.