The air crackled with tension as the fierce gesture of Pacheon Jinkangsu distorted the very space around them. Like ripples spreading across a pond, a menacing wave of energy surged forward. In response, the old, worn sword of Hyeopje emitted a brilliant, unexpected radiance.

This was the Ilro Jingeom, the culmination of Hyeopje’s martial journey, a sword technique that embodied the essence of his path as a warrior. It stood firm against Pacheon Jinkangsu’s onslaught.

As if slicing through a turbulent sea, Hyeopje’s sword descended upon the distorted space. The energy waves, centered around his blade, spread out in concentric circles, clashing with Pacheon Jinkangsu’s force.

The collision of energies sent a massive dust cloud spiraling into the sky, obscuring everything in its path. But with a single gesture, the Tyrant King cleared the view, dispersing the dust with a powerful wave of his hand.

Hyeopje, undeterred, accelerated his movements, his form disappearing in a blur, leaving only a trail of split sand in his wake. The Tyrant King mirrored this, vanishing from his spot as sand erupted like a fountain around him.

With a thunderous crash, the two masters clashed, their movements folding space itself. As their weapons met, the Tyrant King spoke, his voice calm yet commanding.

“Are you trying to buy time, League Master? If you’re waiting for the Iron Fist King and the three divisions stationed at the Murim Alliance’s Honam branch, give up.”

The Tyrant King had been watching the Murim Alliance closely. He knew the forces stationed at Honam were part of the League Master’s strategy. But the Iron Fist King and the divisions wouldn’t make it here. By now, the Iron Fist King was likely engaged with the Ghost Whip King, one of the Tyrant King’s elite.

With a swift motion, the Tyrant King caught Hyeopje’s sword between his fingers, attempting to strike his temple with his other hand. Hyeopje deftly redirected his sword, aiming for the Tyrant King’s wrist.

“Have you only been watching the Murim Alliance? What if the Black Night Palace seizes this opportunity?”

The Tyrant King deflected the incoming blade with a flick of his wrist, using the momentum to launch a punch at Hyeopje’s core. Hyeopje countered with a knee strike, meeting the punch head-on.

“Today’s battle is my main focus, not the sect’s affairs. I’ve mobilized three of my elite and five from the Tyrant King’s forces. You needn’t worry about the Black Night Palace.”

The Tyrant King’s words implied that he had even accounted for any opportunistic moves from the Black Night Palace.

“Impressive, Tyrant King. You’ve prepared quite thoroughly.”

Despite exchanging dozens of blows in mere moments, the two spoke as if sharing a casual conversation over tea. The Tyrant King, observing Hyeopje’s calm gaze through the bamboo hat, clenched his left hand into a fist while his right hand curled like a hook.

‘Even with the Sword Saint of Mount Hua, there’s no way out of this. Does he have another trick up his sleeve?’

The Tyrant King’s Pacheon Jinkangsu was a master of precision, every finger movement deliberate. His fists unleashed gusts of wind, and his fingers tore through the air, only to gather and release energy in an instant.

With his ever-changing hand movements, the Tyrant King pressed down on Hyeopje’s space. Yet, Hyeopje met the fierce energy waves with straightforward, unadorned sword strikes, holding his ground against the Tyrant King.

Each swing of Hyeopje’s sword, imbued with a grayish aura, cleaved through the energy waves, carving a path straight to the Tyrant King. Hyeopje advanced steadily along the path his sword had forged, just as he had walked the path of a warrior from the very bottom to become a great hero.

The Tyrant King laughed heartily, seemingly pleased by the sight.

“Hahaha! Here I come!”

“Be careful.”

With renewed vigor, the Tyrant King unleashed a fiery aura, twisting his hands, while Hyeopje, eyes sharp, swung his sword in a wide arc.

A sandstorm rose around them, as if to shield their duel from unworthy eyes, enveloping the two masters in a swirling vortex.

* * *

Mu-hui’s eyes darted as he blocked Samagang’s strike aimed at his waist. For some reason, his gaze was drawn to a scene he couldn’t afford to miss.

“Young one, do you have time to worry about the League Master?”

Mu-hui quickly shifted his focus back to the battle, just in time to see Samagang’s spear deflecting his sword with a heavy clang. Samagang had expertly disrupted Mu-hui’s technique, exploiting a gap in his sequence.

The spear, seemingly retreating, suddenly twisted and thrust towards Mu-hui’s chin. He barely managed to dodge, but a red line appeared on his jaw.

Feeling the sharpness of the spear’s edge, Samagang extended his left hand, aiming for the spot where Mu-hui’s sword energy had just pierced through.

Mu-hui, twisting his body to evade the spear, seized the opportunity to counterattack. Samagang chuckled, impressed by Mu-hui’s resilience.

Throughout their sixty exchanges, Mu-hui had never been at a disadvantage.

“Not bad for a young one. You know how to fight.”

Samagang’s voice was filled with excitement as his spear danced like a swarm of snakes, targeting Mu-hui’s vital points, only to be blocked by a flurry of petals.

Mu-hui, seizing the opening, pressed his sword against the spear shaft, sliding it forward with precision.

Sparks flew as the sword scraped along the spear, nearing Samagang’s right hand. But Samagang adjusted his grip, reversing the spear’s trajectory to counter Mu-hui.

The spear clashed with Mu-hui’s defense, forcing him to retreat under the immense force.

‘I need to extend my breath.’

Taking a deep breath, Mu-hui channeled his inner energy, the aura around him glowing even brighter. As he stepped forward, the aura seemed to ripple with his movement.

In his vision, Samagang’s spear energy surged like a wave. The Black Smoke Piercing technique was as versatile as Mu-hui’s own sword style. In response, Mu-hui’s sword scattered petals of energy, meeting the spear’s advance.

Samagang, wielding the spear with one hand, pulled back, muscles coiling, before launching it with a powerful twist.

The spiraling spear energy pierced through the petals, aiming for Mu-hui’s chest. He countered with a series of tight arcs, employing the Plum Blossom Endurance technique.

A heavy impact momentarily halted the spear, but the relentless spiral energy soon overwhelmed Mu-hui’s defense.

However, the technique had diverted the spear’s path, allowing Mu-hui to deflect it with his sword. Yet, Samagang’s spear still managed to graze Mu-hui’s shoulder.

Despite the searing pain spreading from his shoulder, Mu-hui remained unfazed, quickly sealing his pressure points to stop the bleeding. He unleashed a burst of energy to fend off Samagang’s next attack.

With a powerful step, Samagang’s spear shattered the energy and petals, thrusting forward once more.

“Does it hurt, young one?”

Samagang relentlessly targeted Mu-hui’s injured shoulder. Each clash sent blood spraying, but Mu-hui refused to back down, determined to close the distance.

Spears and swords.

The distance between them was a severe disadvantage. Especially when facing a superior opponent. For Mu-hui, retreat was not an option.

The unpredictable movements of the Black Serpent Spear made it difficult for Mu-hui to anticipate its trajectory. It twisted and turned, striking from unexpected angles, more like a whip than a spear.

In response, Mu-hui’s Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Technique became increasingly elaborate, displaying a rich array of transformations.

Boom!

Despite sustaining injuries to his thigh and right arm, Mu-hui took a step forward, conjuring a flurry of plum blossoms to counter the spear’s relentless assault, pressing onward.

“Just two more steps.”

Blood from Mu-hui’s internal injuries dripped onto his plum blossom robe, already stained a deep red.

As Mu-hui closed the gap, his eyes flashed with a fierce determination. Seeing this, Sa-ma Kang’s lips curled into a wide grin.

“Impressive!”

Sa-ma Kang raised his spear high above his head, twisting his body with a powerful motion, and brought it down diagonally. Mu-hui met the attack with a diagonal slash of his own, executing the Plum Blossom Flow technique.

A cascade of petals and countless sword shadows merged into a single stream, racing through the air.

The spear descending from the upper left and the sword rising from the lower right clashed at the midpoint.

The moment spear and sword collided, a violent shockwave erupted, shaking both masters. Sa-ma Kang absorbed the impact by stepping back, but Mu-hui pressed forward, enduring the force.

“If I hold back, there’s no way out.”

Mu-hui’s robe fluttered precariously as he navigated the storm of energy, a cold smile playing on his lips.

“Ha!”

Sa-ma Kang, delighted by Mu-hui’s resolve, brought his spear to his waist.

The spear, gripped tightly in both hands, blazed with a dark, fiery aura.

“You dare provoke me, boy.”

The spear twisted and split into countless paths, enveloping Mu-hui from all sides. Though his sword continued to bloom with plum blossoms, the overwhelming spear aura suppressed their fragrance and light.

A relentless barrage of thrusts, numbering in the dozens, then hundreds, unfolded in a single breath. The plum blossom scent failed to spread, and the faded blossoms were torn apart by the onslaught.

The Black Abyss.

Sa-ma Kang’s unceasing spear strikes devoured Mu-hui’s Plum Blossom Nine Variations, Plum Blossom Roadside, and Plum Blossom Butterfly Dance techniques in succession.

The spear’s tip seemed like a vast, unfathomable black swamp, ready to swallow Mu-hui whole, exuding a dark, ominous glow.

With blood trickling down his forehead, Mu-hui narrowed one eye and brought his sword to the center.

“Hu.”

Calming his breath, he channeled his inner strength to its peak, infusing it into his sword.

Seeing Mu-hui’s serene demeanor, Sa-ma Kang’s eyes finally showed a hint of unease.

“This guy?”

The sword stood firm like a pillar, and a tremor began to ripple through it. Plum blossoms started to bloom, swirling in a vortex.

Dozens, then hundreds of blossoms began to emerge. The Black Abyss, which had effortlessly consumed the Plum Blossom Sword techniques, started to recede.

The Unmoving Plum Blossom.

Two techniques, each endlessly transforming and seeking to engulf the other, collided.

When the profusion of plum blossoms faded like a fleeting dream, all the changes of the Unmoving Plum Blossom condensed into a single, clear line drawn by the sword.

A thin, dazzling line of violet light sliced through the center of the Black Abyss.

—-!

The explosion of energy swallowed even the deafening roar, sweeping over both masters, and the Black Abyss and Unmoving Plum Blossom vanished together.

“Cough!”

Mu-hui, rolling on the ground, spat out a mouthful of blood, using his sword to prop himself up. Unlike Mu-hui, Sa-ma Kang had only been pushed back, leaving a deep groove in the ground before him.

However, the sleeve of his right arm, which held the spear, was gone, and his lips were noticeably redder than before. It seemed Sa-ma Kang had also felt the impact of the shattered Black Abyss.

Sa-ma Kang looked at Mu-hui’s pale face and grinned, revealing blood-stained teeth.

“Truly remarkable, Volcano Sword Saint!”

For the first time, Sa-ma Kang addressed Mu-hui by his title, rather than calling him a mere boy.

Though the clash of their ultimate techniques had widened the distance between them, Sa-ma Kang made no move to close it.

“Can you hear me, Volcano Sword Saint?”

Even without Sa-ma Kang’s words, the sounds of clashing metal and shouts were clear. Just as the masters were locked in battle, so too were the warriors and disciples engaged in fierce combat.

Mu-hui wasn’t the only one whose plum blossom robe was stained with blood.

Mu-jin and Mu-hwa’s robes were also soaked, and Mu-cheol fought valiantly with a massive plum blossom sword, despite a sword embedded in his back. The other disciples were similarly wounded.

Yet, thanks to their resilience, the main force managed to hold their formation, albeit precariously.

But this delicate balance could tip at any moment.

“The path of righteousness is a thorny one. Even now, it is. Wouldn’t it have been wiser to flee with the disciples, as the strategist suggested?”

Mu-hui merely chuckled.

“I’ve never taken the easy path. Walking a thorny road won’t change anything now.”

“Is that so? Then let’s make it even harder.”

Mu-hui pulled his sword from the ground and brought it to the center, while Sa-ma Kang raised his spear horizontally to eye level, preparing to throw.

“May you withstand this, Volcano Sword Saint.”

The first technique of the Black Serpent Spear, and Sa-ma Kang’s favorite: Night Piercer.

Whoosh!

The spear, thrown with such force that it tore through the air, was nothing like the one Mu-hui had faced before.

The internal energy within the spear exploded, accelerating it repeatedly, and by the time it reached ten paces from Mu-hui, it had already accelerated fifteen times. The spear’s rotation added to its momentum.

The power of the Night Piercer tore through the air, creating a fierce gale that whipped Mu-hui’s hair and robe.

Originally intending to use the Breaking Sword or Breaking Blade techniques, Mu-hui suddenly recalled the strategist’s movements.

The straightforward thrust, like a swordsman walking the path of righteousness, lingered in his mind.

Without further thought, Mu-hui extended his sword forward.

Boom!

Mu-hui stepped forward, following the movement that had come to him.

The swordsman’s path, infused with the insights of a solitary sword master from a past life, was unleashed.

The swordsman’s thrust pierced through the night-piercing spear.

To save the precarious path of righteousness.

Breaking Spear, Seeking Righteousness.

Crack!

The sound of a great tree splitting echoed as a fierce wind rushed toward Mu-hui’s face.

Boom!

Explosions erupted behind Mu-hui, shaking the sand dunes as if an earthquake had struck.

The spear, split cleanly in half, embedded itself in the ground on either side of Mu-hui.

“It doesn’t seem that difficult.”

“Ha ha ha ha!”

Despite his beloved weapon being split in two, Sa-ma Kang trembled with laughter.

“In that case!”

Sa-ma Kang reached into the empty air. Dark brown energy swirled around his hand, forming the shape of a spear.

Mu-hui’s eyes darkened at the sight.

Rumble!

As Sa-ma Kang and Mu-hui prepared to clash again, a thunderous roar shook the sky. Mu-hui looked up.

Despite the earth-shaking thunder, the sky was clear.

Rumble!

As the thunder sounded again, a crimson lightning bolt streaked across the sky.