“You kept me waiting.”

Mu-hui opened his eyes at the sound of Dang Gi-ho’s voice, having been seated in a meditative pose in the private training hall.

Dang Gi-ho, who had come prepared for their duel, looked exactly the same as when they first met. Mu-hui’s attention was drawn to the wide sleeves of Dang Gi-ho’s green martial attire, typical of the Tang family. It was said that these sleeves concealed countless hidden weapons and poisons, a hallmark of the Tang martial artists and something to be wary of in a duel.

The two took their positions at the center of the training hall, ready to begin their match.

“Plum Blossom Sword Master, though this is just a friendly duel, I wish to fight as if it were a matter of life and death. Is that acceptable?”

Mu-hui had requested to see the martial arts of the Sichuan Tang family, and Dang Gi-ho was grateful for the opportunity. It was rare to spar with a master of such high caliber without risking one’s life—a rare chance indeed, especially for someone like Dang Gi-ho, who was striving to reach the transcendent realm.

“That’s exactly what I hoped for. After all, this isn’t a match against the Poison Lord of Sichuan.”

With Mu-hui’s agreement, Dang Gi-ho nodded and crossed his arms, slipping his hands into his sleeves, assuming a stance unique to the Tang family.

As he did so, he leaped back, widening the distance between himself and Mu-hui. In an instant, dozens of hidden weapons flew from his sleeves toward Mu-hui.

A barrage of needles shot straight ahead, while others curved in a wide arc, resembling centipedes with their sharp edges glinting menacingly. The speed was such that even seasoned masters would struggle to react, yet there was no sound of the air being pierced.

Mu-hui drew his sword, deflecting a dozen of the projectiles, only to be met with twice as many raining down like a storm.

‘It seems random, but…’

The trajectories of the weapons filled his vision, seemingly chaotic, yet some maintained a consistent speed and path. Focusing solely on deflecting them haphazardly would inevitably lead to being caught by the precisely timed and directed attacks.

Speed alone wasn’t the answer. In fact, it would only lead to being caught off guard.

Mu-hui adjusted the speed of his sword, precisely deflecting the incoming weapons with calculated timing.

“I’ll show you as many of our family’s hidden weapons as I can.”

With a flick of his fingers, Dang Gi-ho sent various sizes of iron pellets flying toward Mu-hui. The smaller pellets followed the larger ones, hidden from view due to their size difference—a technique known as the “Mother and Child” trick. Though Mu-hui couldn’t see the smaller pellets, he sensed something amiss.

His keen instincts picked up the subtle vibrations and air currents caused by the pellets. Mu-hui thrust his sword forward, splitting the larger pellet and effortlessly slicing through the smaller one as well. He then unleashed a flurry of petals, scattering the hidden weapons and closing in on Dang Gi-ho.

‘As expected, he dismantles it with ease.’

Watching Mu-hui effortlessly deflect the barrage, Dang Gi-ho nodded and resumed his attack, now fully utilizing the hidden weapons stored in his sleeves.

To prevent Mu-hui from closing the distance, Dang Gi-ho scattered poison needles and flying stones. The needles, designed to pierce the soles of the feet, and the erratically bouncing stones, mimicking locusts, were meant to hinder Mu-hui’s movements.

‘Interesting. Such peculiar weapons.’

Yet neither the poison needles nor the flying stones could halt Mu-hui’s advance. As he moved forward, the petals of his Plum Blossom Sword technique danced in his wake.

Mu-hui stepped on the poison needles without hesitation, his expression unchanged. Dang Gi-ho quickly realized why.

“Ah!”

Mu-hui’s steps were as light as if he were treading on grass without bending a single blade. His feet, seemingly weightless, pressed down on the needle tips without being pierced. He was simply running over them.

As Mu-hui closed the gap and raised his sword, Dang Gi-ho extended his hands, a greenish poison aura swirling around them.

With a sharp clash, Mu-hui’s descending sword met Dang Gi-ho’s poison-laden palms. The impact sent ripples through the poison aura, some of which splashed onto Mu-hui.

Sensing the toxic energy, Mu-hui quickly retreated. The poison that dripped onto the floor began to corrode it rapidly.

Boom!

Now it was Dang Gi-ho’s turn to advance, closing the distance with a swift step. As he did, a thick, greenish poison mist emanated from his entire body, rapidly expanding and engulfing Mu-hui.

“The Poison Lord of Sichuan can naturally unleash such a poison mist. It’s undoubtedly more potent than mine.”

The lower-ranked members of the Tang family used prepared poisons, while the more skilled ones harnessed the poison essence stored in their dantian to unleash techniques like poison palms or claws. The true masters could freely manipulate poison, creating mists and extracting various toxins at will.

“The potency of the poison essence depends on what kind of poison was cultivated. The Poison Lord, having left the family and acquired poisons freely, must have become incredibly formidable.”

“Indeed.”

“Moreover, having subdued the Five Poisons Sect of Yunnan, he must have acquired their deadly poisons as well. You should be cautious.”

Mu-hui could have used his sword to disperse the poison mist, but he chose to experience it directly. As soon as he sensed the poison invading his body, his internal energy reacted swiftly.

The circulation of his energy doubled, burning away the toxins.

‘It doesn’t disappear immediately.’

Most poisons would evaporate upon entering his bloodstream, unable to withstand the pressure. However, the Tang family’s poison was tenacious, resisting even as it was being burned away.

Mu-hui intensified his internal energy, sweeping through his meridians like a tidal wave, consuming the lingering poison.

The myriad toxins carried by the mist vanished upon entering his body, overwhelmed by his immense internal power. Yet, the process consumed a significant amount of energy.

While burning away the poison, Mu-hui continued to unleash his Plum Blossom Sword technique. Dang Gi-ho filled the training hall with poison mist, launching hidden weapons within it.

Clang! Clang!

The sound of hidden weapons clashing with petals echoed throughout the hall. The storm of weapons within the poison mist became even more menacing.

Chirrup! Chirrup!

Butterfly-shaped weapons, known as “Sorrowful Soul Butterflies,” flitted through the mist, emitting a nerve-wracking sound as they flew.

The dense mist obscured the view, making the darkened weapons nearly invisible. The mist, constantly circulating with Dang Gi-ho’s energy, mixed with the air currents, disrupting Mu-hui’s ability to sense the weapons.

Despite this, Mu-hui didn’t hesitate, tilting his sword to slice through the air.

‘If it’s hard to read, then don’t bother reading it.’

Calmly handling the barrage of hidden weapons, Mu-hui infused his sword with energy. The sword, surrounded by a violet aura, began to emit sharp gusts of wind.

Dang Gi-ho had crafted the perfect battlefield for himself using poison mist and hidden weapons. But Mu-hui simply took control of that battlefield.

The sword, vibrating finely, slashed in all directions, unleashing crescent-shaped gusts of wind that tore through the mist like butterflies drunk on the scent of flowers, scattering the poison.

Amidst the flow created by dozens of sword winds, countless petals rose, deflecting the hidden weapons.

Mu-hui, blending the Plum Blossom Sword technique with his experience against hidden weapons, unleashed a flurry of attacks that neutralized both the poison mist and the weapons, illuminating the training hall.

“Impressive!”

As Mu-hui effortlessly caught the sixty or so throwing knives scattered by Dang Gi-ho, the latter couldn’t help but express his admiration.

Despite the overwhelming difference in their skills, Dang Gi-ho wasn’t ready to give up. He reached into his sleeves once more.

“Let’s make this the last round.”

“Go ahead.”

With Mu-hui’s permission, Dang Gi-ho extended his hands. This time, his movements were slower, more deliberate. Countless knives were released from his hands.

Simultaneously, a powerful whirlwind of energy erupted from Dang Gi-ho’s entire body.

Whoosh!

The knives that had fallen to the ground or were embedded in various places were swept up by the energy, floating gently in the air.

The sight of countless knives rising simultaneously, caught in the flow of Dang Gi-ho’s energy, was nothing short of spectacular.

It wasn’t just about releasing a strong burst of energy; it required a delicate and complex manipulation of inner strength. Dang Gi-ho’s face flushed slightly as he broke into a sweat.

“Mancheonhwau.”

At his command, the knives suspended in the air began to tremble ominously.

Swoosh!

Hundreds of different types of knives joined the flow of Mancheonhwau, moving as one.

The storm of knives painted a massive whirlwind in the sky. As sunlight reflected off the knives imbued with inner strength, countless tiny lights flickered above Mu-hui’s head.

The beautiful scene resembled a field of flowers made of light unfolding in the sky above.

As the whirlwind’s speed increased, becoming a single circle, a brilliant light flashed, and a shower of countless flower-like blades rained down.

“Beautiful.”

Mu-hui raised his sword high.

The moment the sword pointed skyward, Mu-hui’s sleeve fluttered fiercely.

‘Did the sword disappear?’

Dang Gi-ho momentarily thought the blade had vanished, so swift and precise were Mu-hui’s sword techniques. In an instant, the sword created a hundred streaks of light.

These streaks split into countless petals of sword energy.

The green rain of blades falling from above mixed with the purple rain rising from below.

As Mancheonhwau and Nakmaeseongwu overlapped, the multitude of sounds merged into a single, thunderous roar that echoed throughout the entire Sa-cheon Dang family estate.

Boom!

As the poisonous energy and knives that filled the air cleared away, Dang Gi-ho was left kneeling on one knee, coughing up blood.

“Are you alright?”

“Ugh. I’m fine.”

“Please, focus on your breathing. I’ll stand guard.”

“I won’t refuse. Thank you.”

Dang Gi-ho, having suffered internal injuries from the backlash of Mancheonhwau, immediately sat cross-legged to meditate, while Mu-hui stood watch.

A few family members, drawn by the explosion, approached the training ground but quietly retreated upon seeing the shattered arena and Mu-hui standing guard over the family head.

After about half an hour of meditation, Dang Gi-ho opened his eyes.

“It took longer than I thought. Sorry about that.”

“Not at all. If anything, I should apologize.”

“Don’t say that.”

Dang Gi-ho surveyed the devastated surroundings and asked Mu-hui, “Do you think this will help against the Sa-cheon Poison King?”

“It was more than helpful.”

Beyond just help, Mu-hui had gained insights that would allow him to develop techniques to counter various types of throwing weapons.

While Dang Gi-ho’s demonstration of various weapons was beneficial, the display of Mancheonhwau was the most significant.

Mancheonhwau wasn’t just about launching hundreds of knives at once; it was a masterful technique that required the delicate orchestration of powerful energy and the simultaneous execution of dozens of weapon skills.

“Mancheonhwau. Was the Dang family’s martial art satisfactory?”

“Absolutely.”

“Your words are reassuring.”

Noticing a shadow pass over Dang Gi-ho’s face, Mu-hui sensed something was amiss and asked, “Is something troubling you?”

“I’ve been a bit unsettled lately. I wonder if my decision to fully align the Sa-cheon Dang family with the righteous path, leaving behind our neutral stance, was the right one.”

Mu-hui pondered Dang Gi-ho’s musings. It was indeed curious that the Sa-cheon Dang family, which had maintained a neutral stance for so long, had suddenly shifted to the righteous path.

“Did you have a reason for steering the Sa-cheon Dang family towards the righteous path?”

Dang Gi-ho fell silent for a moment, gazing at the view of the Sa-cheon Dang estate before him.

“It wasn’t for the family’s prestige or gain, nor for grand ideals like justice and honor. It was for a simpler reason.”