He wanted to swallow the scream, but it was already tearing its way out of his throat.
“Kuaaaaaagh!”
The punch from Yeon Seo-rin, the Seamless Heavenly Robe, was far from a simple blow. The stomp of her lead foot triggered a surge of kinetic energy that rippled through her preternaturally resilient frame, traveling up through vast meridians and powerful muscle groups before exploding into her fist. This single strike, embodying three distinct principles of martial logic, pulverized the Third Young Master’s defensive internal energy, shattered his teeth, and shredded his gums.
“Tsk… you piece of shit…!”
Despite the devastation, the secret heritage of the Quanzhen Sect, rightfully called a divine art, valiantly guarded his upper danjeon, anchoring his consciousness and preventing a total blackout.
“Not enough, is it?”
The moment Seo-rin’s voice hissed in his ear, her next fist was already burying itself deep into his abdomen.
“Wait, what…?”
Yeon Seo-rin’s eyebrows twitched with irritation. He blocked that? Normally, the internal energy she’d injected through her fist should have paralyzed his meridians, rendering further martial execution impossible. Yet the Quanzhen energy surged to his extremities, granting him the freedom to move and manipulate his power despite the damage.
“Arrogant bitch…!”
Jeok-gwang blocked the follow-up with his left hand, the one with the split shoulder, and immediately drove his forehead into her face.
CRACK!
A sound so thunderous it seemed impossible for human bone to produce echoed through the clearing.
“Gah…?”
To his shock, Jeok-gwang was the one who let out a pained groan. In the split second their heads collided, Seo-rin had utilized a proximity technique to manifest an inch-force strike from that exact distance. It was a feat of technical brilliance that lived up to her title as the Seamless Heavenly Robe.
“Well?” Her voice drifted to him again, dripping with mockery. “Is your head clear now?”
“Bullshit!”
Cursing, the Third Young Master drew his sword in a lightning-fast upward arc, his movements a blur from their close-quarters stance. It was a secret move of the Namgung Clan: The Limitless Vault of Heaven Sword Art: Ascending Secret.
I’ve been aiming for this the whole time!
Jeok-gwang relied on his Quanzhen-guarded brain to tank the headbutt while setting up this lethal adaptation.
SHIIIING!
The blade’s tip shredded the sound barrier as it tore upward through the narrow gap between their bodies.
“…”
This time, it was Jeok-gwang’s turn to be stunned. Yeon Seo-rin had pushed her physical limits, dropping into a perfect Iron Bridge backbend to evade the steel by a hair’s breadth.
Impossible!
A few strands of her hair drifted through the air, and a couple of drops of blood sprayed from a small nick on her forehead, but she wasn’t finished. From her horizontal position, Seo-rin’s own blade surged upward, still inside its scabbard, and slammed into Jeok-gwang’s jaw.
WHAM!
The Quanzhen heritage once again saved his brain from being scrambled, but the agony was blinding. She mimicked the Namgung art in that heartbeat?! Pain so intense it felt like his eyeballs were about to burst flooded his mind. He watched, almost in slow motion, as more of his teeth were sent flying into the sky.
“UAAAAAAAGH!”
With a scream of kiai, a violent discharge of lightning energy erupted from his body, repelling Seo-rin just as she was moving in for a follow-up strike.
“Hehe.”
Seo-rin laughed, expertly funneling the electrical energy that had transferred to her hands into the ground with a quick shake. “Did you really think learning a few parlor tricks made you a Supreme Being?”
She threw his earlier insult about “cheap tricks” right back in his face.
“Shut up!”
Driven by a manic surge of adrenaline, Jeok-gwang stepped forward, his feet wreathed in lightning as he propelled himself at a speed that defied the naked eye.
Quanzhen Sect: Lightning Flash Stride.
It was a speed he could never have dreamed of before receiving the heritage. His innate talent allowed him to execute a perfect slash even while moving at such a terrifying velocity.
Namgung Clan: Limitless Vault of Heaven Sword Art, Seventh Chapter: Sky-Shattering Impact.
The Namgung blade, carried by Quanzhen footwork, cleaved through the air like a bolt of divine retribution. But instead of showing fear at that blinding speed, Yeon Seo-rin’s lips curled into a wide, predatory grin.
“Want another taste?”
Sword Clan Secret Art. Seamless Heavenly Robe Style. Flash Shadow Instant.
“What—?!”
The world inverted. No, it wasn’t the world. It was Jeok-gwang himself. He found his body flipped and sent tumbling across the ground like a discarded toy.
That sword art again…?
It was the same inexplicable counter that had intercepted him mid-air earlier. Even as he processed the thought, he was skidding across the dirt, carving a long trench in the earth. He bounced off several jagged rocks before finally coming to a halt.
THUD!
“Gack…!”
He slammed into a massive boulder, his momentum finally broken.
“Hahaha!” Seo-rin laughed heartily at the sight of him crumpled on the ground. “Do you still want to call the Flash Shadow Instant a ‘cheap trick’?”
“Fuck…!”
Jeok-gwang’s hands trembled as he stabbed his sword into the ground to steady himself. “How… what kind of…!” He stood up unsteadily, his words coming out in a jagged hiss. “Using such foul sorcery…!”
First ‘cheap tricks,’ now ‘sorcery.’ But he couldn’t finish his rant.
SPLURT!
Blood suddenly erupted like a fountain from his right shoulder, the one that had been struck by the Flash Shadow Instant. The wound had been so clean, the blade so sharp, that it had taken several seconds for the flesh to realize it had been cleaved open.
“Cough…!”
The Quanzhen True Qi surged through his frame again, knitting the severed muscle fibers of his shoulder to stabilize the injury.
“This goddamn… impossible…!”
The divine art could mend his flesh, but it could do nothing for his shattered pride.
“FUCK! FUCK!”
Shame and fury boiled over. “FUCK YOUUUUU!”
“Hah!” Seo-rin shrugged nonchalantly. “Looking at that pathetic display, it seems you need a lot more ‘etiquette’ beaten into you.”
***
“Is that even possible?”
Gam Woo-hyeon, the Mount Hua Sword Dragon, looked at Yeon So-hyeon with a face full of disbelief. “A swordsmanship that completely overcomes absolute superiority in internal energy and physical stats…?”
“You’ve already seen the proof, haven’t you?”
“Proof?”
So-hyeon offered a dry chuckle. “You saw how I dealt with that fleshy monstrosity from the Demonic Cult, didn’t you?”
“Ah…!”
The memory flashed through Gam Woo-hyeon’s mind.
Mount Hua’s Soaring Thunder Strike? The Venerable One of Dark Heavens had seen through the technique before it was even fully manifested. “An archaic method with pathetic execution,” he had said. The Venerable One of Dark Heavens had danced through the crater, parrying a storm of rapid strikes with impossible ease.
Indeed, that monstrosity, wielding overwhelming physical power and sinister, inexplicable demonic energy, had been unable to touch the Grand Young Master’s unfathomable martial state.
“Do you understand now?” So-hyeon said, pulling Gam Woo-hyeon from his reverie. “If raw power could crush everything, the very reason for martial arts’ existence would be to use that power against the opponent.”
“Martial arts, at their core, were born and developed to survive predators, to allow the weak to overcome the strong.”
“…”
So-hyeon’s voice resonated in Gam Woo-hyeon’s mind like a profound sermon. Seeing the shock on the younger man’s face, the Grand Young Master chuckled softly. “This is basic theory you must have heard a thousand times during your foundational training at Mount Hua, isn’t it?”
He was right. The words were fundamental. It was the same history and theory drilled into every disciple from childhood. But in this moment, things he thought he already knew were blooming into genuine realization.
“This is why the ancients said that learning and mastering are two different things.”
Gam Woo-hyeon, a man who had broken through his own “wall” through sheer effort, was familiar with the sentiment. Yet coming from the Grand Young Master, the words carried a weight he had never felt before.
“Wait, hold on…!” Gam Woo-hyeon raised a hand. “Even so…!”
“Even so?”
“Even if she is a genius as the Seamless Heavenly Robe, knowing it in her head doesn’t mean she can execute it perfectly!” Gam Woo-hyeon argued, refusing to lose the thread of the conversation. “Such things require endless refinement. To achieve that, you need a monstrous opponent to suppress you with overwhelming force during practice…”
He trailed off as his eyes met So-hyeon’s. Realization hit him like a physical blow.
“Grand Young Master…!”
Why look for a monster when one was standing right here?
“It was you! You were her practice partner!”
The monster of all monsters, an existence rarely seen in this world, had been the one to sharpen her blade.
“Correct.”
***
Yeon Jeok-gwang wasn’t the only one having a bewildering experience.
Clang! Clang!
“Hmph…!”
Elder Yeom Gwak-chu pressed down with his blade, its weight immense. The Sword Monarch of Mount Hua countered with his own Heavy Sword technique.
“Kh…!”
But something was wrong. The Sword Monarch had dedicated his entire life to the blade, transcending his age through sheer discipline. And yet…
SCREEEEECH!
As Elder Yeom let out a low, familiar kiai, the Sword Monarch’s feet began to furrow the ground as he was pushed backward.
Why…?
There was no clear difference in their respective realms of cultivation. If anything, the Sword Monarch should have had the advantage due to his superior experience.
Why am I being pushed back?
BOOM!
The blades separated for a heartbeat before colliding again, showering the air with sparks. This time, the Sword Monarch was pushed back even further.
How is this happening?!
“Haaah!” The Sword Monarch swung his blade, tracing the pattern of a plum blossom to deflect the Sword Pinnacle Crushes the Mountain‘s heavy strike.
“Hmph!”
Without a trace of panic, Elder Yeom gathered his scattered energy and blocked the Sword Monarch’s blade effortlessly. Once again, it was the man from Mount Hua who gave ground.
Why do I feel more and more outmatched the longer we fight?
“You…” The Sword Monarch couldn’t hold back any longer. He spoke mid-duel, his voice strained. “What kind of training have you been doing…?”
He knew how absurd the question was. To ask such a thing in the middle of a life-and-death struggle was pathetic.
“Forget it. Never mind—”
“I met a good teacher through a stroke of fate,” Yeom Gwak-chu replied, surprising the Sword Monarch.
“A teacher?” The answer only muddied the waters of the Sword Monarch’s mind. “A teacher capable of instructing a warrior who has already surpassed the wall?”
Had the retired Patriarch of the Sword Clan, the man once called the Greatest Sword under the Heavens, risen from his sickbed? No, even he would find it difficult to teach a master whose style was so fundamentally different. The Sword Monarch suspected Yeom was simply talking nonsense to gain a psychological edge.
Regardless of what the Sword Monarch thought, Elder Yeom caught his breath and offered a toothy grin.
“It’s all thanks to choosing the right Lord.”
“…Your Lord?” The Sword Monarch asked, wanting to confirm his growing suspicion. “You mean that Grand Young Master of the Sword Clan…?”
The answer came without hesitation.
“I do.”