The Martial Arts Alliance Training Grounds.

Though only two men stood in the vast expanse of the training grounds, their presence filled the entire space with an overwhelming aura.

One wielded a sword as red as flames, while the other brandished a blade as dark as the night sky at dusk. Their weapons clashed, each showcasing their formidable skills.

Boom!

In a split second, their swords collided over thirty times, each strike more powerful than the last, until they finally recoiled with a shower of sparks.

Mu Hui, taking a step back from the impact, gripped his sword low and swung it upward with force. The other man, the Daoist, flexed his muscles, still full of vigor, and brought his blade down with all his might.

As their weapons met in the middle, the ground beneath them trembled and cracked from the sheer force of their clash.

Watching from a distance, the King of Fists observed every subtle movement of their muscles with satisfaction.

“Heh heh. What a sight to behold. There’s nothing quite like watching the muscles of true masters in action.”

Even though they were using only the bare minimum of their inner strength, the aftermath of their duel was anything but ordinary. The King of Fists had to suppress the shockwaves to prevent them from spreading too far.

Swish!

The Daoist’s blade danced through the air, creating sharp, piercing sounds as it sliced through the empty space. Mu Hui’s eyes darted back and forth, tracking the unpredictable movements of the blade.

‘His technique rivals that of a volcano.’

The Daoist’s strikes were as varied and unpredictable as lightning splitting the sky, yet they carried an undeniable power. It was a stark contrast to the straightforward and forceful style of the Thunderous Blade.

In response, Mu Hui’s swordplay was steady and unadorned, aiming to control the Daoist’s attacks with heavy, deliberate strikes.

It was as if their roles had reversed, each using techniques unfamiliar to them. Mu Hui was employing the Dokgo Sword Technique, particularly focusing on the “Breaking the Blade” form, while the Daoist was experimenting with an incomplete technique he had been developing.

They were not clashing with their usual styles but rather testing new techniques to identify their weaknesses.

“Mu Hui, let’s pick up the pace.”

“Yes.”

As their breathing synchronized, the flow of their inner energy shifted. Their bodies were now enveloped in the distinct auras of their respective martial arts.

The Daoist’s body was enveloped in a deep red aura, while Mu Hui’s energy, which had been concentrated around his shoulders, began to flow down to his feet.

Boom!

The Daoist advanced, and a web of energy ensnared Mu Hui, pressing down on him with crushing force.

‘This is the Mountain King’s Dominance from the Hebei Peng Clan.’

Simultaneously, five strikes came at Mu Hui from different directions.

Mu Hui bent his knees slightly, his breathing steady and controlled. With the rhythm of his breathing, his muscles surged with power, channeling it into his sword.

Slash!

With a single vertical slash, Mu Hui tore through the oppressive energy, his Dokgo Sword Technique cutting through the Mountain King’s Dominance.

He then executed the “Breaking the Blade” form, deflecting the incoming strikes aimed at his collarbone, shoulder, abdomen, and knee, and pressed forward. The Daoist attempted to counter, but Mu Hui was already a step ahead, disrupting his rhythm.

As the Daoist’s blade swung low, Mu Hui stepped forward, extending his sword to block the attack.

Clang!

He pushed the Daoist’s blade aside and rotated his wrist to strike downward. But the Daoist’s blade quickly returned, deflecting Mu Hui’s sword and aiming for his knee.

‘His technique flows like a raging torrent. Push it back, and it comes back even stronger.’

Mu Hui read the flow of the Daoist’s technique, exploiting its gaps to launch relentless attacks. The Daoist, however, was not one to retreat, and the two masters continued their fierce exchange, each step forward met with a counter.

Mu Hui absorbed everything the Daoist’s technique had to offer, refining his own “Breaking the Blade” form with each encounter.

‘The once-rough form is becoming more refined.’

Sweat dripped from the Daoist’s brow as he swung his blade with relentless vigor.

Despite the tension, the Daoist maintained his focus, knowing that a single mistake could shift the momentum in Mu Hui’s favor. Yet, he wielded his blade with joy, witnessing the rapid evolution of both his and Mu Hui’s techniques.

Clang!

Their swords clashed one final time, the sound of metal ringing out as they both stepped back. After three hundred exchanges, they finally paused their duel.

“Daoist Elder, thank you for your efforts.”

“You did well too.”

Mu Hui sheathed his sword and bowed, and the Daoist returned the gesture with a nod.

They joined the King of Fists, wiping away sweat and refreshing themselves with a drink.

“How was it? Did you find it helpful?”

“Yes. After witnessing the techniques of the Alliance’s swordsmen, experiencing the Daoist Elder’s style was invaluable.”

After completing his tasks in Jiangxi, Mu Hui had accepted countless challenges from the Alliance members.

He faced swordsmen, spearmen, and martial artists of all kinds, regardless of their weapon of choice. The opportunity to spar with a master swordsman drew large crowds daily, and even late into the night, the numbers never dwindled. This allowed Mu Hui to experience a wide array of orthodox martial arts.

Having encountered countless unorthodox techniques in his past life, Mu Hui was well-versed in countering not only the standard eighteen weapons but also more unusual ones like the double sickle, fishing rod, soft sword, and serrated blade.

With knowledge from both his past and present lives, Mu Hui possessed an extensive understanding of both orthodox and unorthodox martial arts. Few in the vast martial world could match his breadth of experience.

Mu Hui planned to incorporate these counter-techniques into the Dokgo Sword Technique, creating a new style.

While he was developing a new Dokgo Sword Technique, the essence of the sword remained unchanged.

The forms focused on practical, aggressive attacks.

Reading the flow and exploiting gaps to force the opponent into defense required keen perception and an ability to read the situation.

However, mastering this from the start was a distant goal. By adding counter-techniques for each weapon, future practitioners of the Dokgo Sword Technique would find it easier to learn.

To achieve this, Mu Hui needed to spar with the Alliance’s masters, gaining experience and refining his techniques.

Through the recent duels at the Alliance, Mu Hui had laid a solid foundation for creating the new Dokgo Sword Technique.

“When my junior created the Plum Blossom Sword, I was there. It’s satisfying to think I’ve helped another junior develop their techniques.”

The King of Fists chuckled, his muscles rippling with energy.

Mu Hui nodded in agreement.

This wasn’t his first encounter with the Daoist, nor with the King of Fists, with whom he had sparred five times. The King of Fists had demonstrated nearly every technique possible with bare hands.

“Though the ‘Breaking Palm’ form isn’t complete yet, thanks to you, King of Fists, I’ve laid a solid foundation. When the time comes, it will be woven into a complete form.”

“Hmm. When that time comes, let’s spar again. I’ll be sure to break that form of yours.”

“That sounds like fun.”

As they conversed, the Daoist, watching the two men reignite their competitive spirit, asked Mu Hui a question.

“Mu Hui, what did you think of the technique I used today?”

“It was quite different from the various techniques of the Hebei Peng Clan you’ve shown before. The strikes came in five directions, each with its own variation, like five tigers attacking at once.”

“Five tigers, you say… Not a bad analogy. Perhaps I’ll use that imagery to refine my understanding.”

Lost in thought for a moment, Doje glanced at Muhwi and Gwonwang before speaking.

“There’s a secluded chamber at the main house that the old master uses alone. I’ve left some of my insights there, so I think I’ll name it ‘Oho-dong,’ the Cave of Five Tigers.”

“That’s a good name, Doje,” Gwonwang said, savoring the sound of it as he nodded and stood up.

“Now that you’ve had a chance to catch your breath, how about a spar?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“You mentioned you’re heading back to Hwasan soon. It’ll get dull without you around. Let’s make the most of the time we have.”

Gwonwang clenched his fist with determination, and Muhwi chuckled softly.

“That’s exactly what I was hoping for.”

* * *

Clouds wrapped around the sharp, towering peaks like a belt, as if dozens of swords had been thrust into the sky.

The Plum Blossom Swordsmen’s faces brightened as they took in the familiar sight of Hwasan in the distance. Finally arriving at Hwaeum, they felt the reality of returning to Hwasan sink in.

“It took longer than I expected.”

“The Murim Alliance was fine, but nothing beats the comfort of Hwasan.”

The first-generation disciples felt their fatigue from the journey from Hubei to Shaanxi melt away at the sight of Hwasan, their steps growing lighter.

“Hmm. But I wonder if we’ll get any rest.”

“Probably not. The secular sects will soon be climbing up to Hwasan.”

“Ugh.”

Hyunbaek spoke firmly, and Hyungak sighed in response.

Hwasan regularly convened the secular sects to discuss their current situations and challenges, fostering mutual support.

The return of Muhwi and the Plum Blossom Swordsmen to Hwasan was partly due to the recent lull in conflicts across various regions, but also because their presence was essential at these gatherings.

“Ah, I’m looking forward to it.”

“Looking forward to what?”

Muhwa’s sly grin caught Muhwi’s attention, prompting him to ask.

“Thinking about heading out into the world with the third-generation disciples is exciting. Don’t you think so, Mujin?”

Muhwa turned to Mujin, who had been walking absentmindedly, and he nodded in agreement.

“Now that you mention it, there was talk about that. Leading the third-generation disciples will be a bit strange.”

“What’s strange about it? They’re just adorable.”

Traditionally, third-generation disciples rarely left Hwasan until they became second-generation disciples and embarked on their first journey into the world.

However, after witnessing the growth of the second-generation disciples through their experiences with Muhwi, the elders decided to trial a new approach at Chunmaegwan.

They arranged for second-generation disciples to accompany the third-generation ones on short excursions, broadening their horizons early on.

“Third-generation disciples, huh…”

Muhwi thought of Myeongsan, diligently training at Chunmaegwan, as he gazed up at the ever-closer Hwasan. With renewed energy, Muhwi and the Plum Blossom Swordsmen began their ascent.