“This is just unbelievable…”

Dokgo Yul was at a loss for words, his mind a tangled mess after hearing what Mu Hui had to say.

A tale he’d never heard before.

Even though Mu Hui had explained the sequence of events in detail, Dokgo Yul found it hard to accept. Yet, he couldn’t deny that Mu Hui knew about the Dokgo Heart Technique and understood it even better than he did.

The Dokgo Heart Technique had no written manual; it was passed down orally by his master, who had taught it to him alone. With his master gone, Dokgo Yul believed he was the only one in the world who knew of it.

‘Even if it’s not the exact formula of the Dokgo Heart Technique…’

From their first meeting, Mu Hui’s mannerisms and speech had reminded him of his master. Especially those occasional sharp glances.

He couldn’t quite explain it, but there was an undeniable sense of familiarity with Mu Hui, as if he were an old friend.

“Ugh.”

Dokgo Yul groaned, clutching his head as if trying to sort through his thoughts. Watching him, Mu Hui let out a wry smile.

He understood why Dokgo Yul was struggling to speak. It was only natural. Accepting it immediately would have been stranger.

“Do you need me to recite the Dokgo Sword Technique and other martial arts secrets to convince you, you slow-witted disciple?”

“Then, just one last thing…”

Dokgo Yul hesitated before asking, “When I first met Master, I was on the brink of starvation. He saved me by giving me food. What was it?”

Mu Hui chuckled, recalling the memory.

On his way back from purchasing a rare elixir with money he’d earned from a commission, the Sword Demon had locked eyes with someone.

A skeletal orphan, skin clinging to bones, slowly dying.

Even as the light in his eyes dimmed, the orphan’s gaze burned with a fierce will to survive.

When their eyes met, the orphan didn’t beg for help or food. He just smiled foolishly.

The Sword Demon, halted by that gaze and smile, asked, “Why don’t you say anything and just smile?”

“I don’t think there’s a need to speak,” the orphan replied.

The Sword Demon laughed at the absurdity of the answer. He didn’t ask for clarification, but he felt an inexplicable pull.

Normally, he would have offered some help or simply ignored the child, but he couldn’t bring himself to walk away. He remembered the words of a wandering sage who had given him his name.

“Fate is like a falling petal.”

It could cling to your clothes even if you didn’t want it, or slip away even if you tried to grasp it.

Feeling he had encountered a falling petal, the Sword Demon reached out and took the orphan’s pulse.

The child was so weak from lack of food that simply feeding him wouldn’t solve the problem.

“I saved up for three months to buy this.”

After a moment of contemplation, the Sword Demon sighed and pulled a small box from his sleeve.

“My name is Dokgo Heon.”

“I don’t have a name.”

“We’ll think of one later.”

The orphan, who survived by consuming the Sword Demon’s precious elixir, gained a new life and a new name: Dokgo Yul.

Recalling that time, Mu Hui smiled warmly.

“Food? You ingested a rare elixir, you rascal. Now that I think about it, you’ve always been good at taking my elixirs. I wonder when I’ll finally benefit from having a disciple.”

Dokgo Yul’s eyes widened in shock, tears welling up. He couldn’t believe it.

“When I fed you that elixir, I never imagined that scrawny kid would grow into such a giant. At least it wasn’t a complete waste.”

“Haha…”

Dokgo Yul let out a weary laugh.

The idea that his deceased master had returned in another’s body was hard to believe, no matter how many times he heard it.

But with Mu Hui knowing things only his master and he could know, he had no choice but to accept it.

Dokgo Yul looked at Mu Hui, who was smiling at him. The face was different, but the smile was just like his master’s when he was the Sword Demon.

No matter how his appearance had changed, his master was still his master.

“Master!”

Dokgo Yul rushed to embrace Mu Hui, but Mu Hui recoiled, flicking his finger to deliver a sharp flick to Dokgo Yul’s forehead.

Thwack!

“Ouch!”

Dokgo Yul flew backward, landing on the ground with a thud. Mu Hui frowned at him.

“Where do you think you’re going, you big oaf?”

Lying on the ground, clutching his forehead, Dokgo Yul suddenly burst into laughter.

“Hahaha!”

His laughter soon mixed with tears.

He recalled all the conversations he’d had with Mu Hui. What he had thought were friendly chats now felt like conversations with his master, revealing new layers of meaning.

Feeling the depth of his master’s intentions in those words, Dokgo Yul struggled to contain his emotions.

Mu Hui listened quietly to Dokgo Yul’s strange laughter, waiting for him to regain his composure.

After a while, Dokgo Yul asked Mu Hui, “Can I call you Master now?”

“Only when it’s just the two of us. Otherwise, as usual.”

Dokgo Yul nodded.

“It’s amazing to talk to Master, whom I thought was dead, right beside me.”

“I did die, technically.”

“That’s okay. No matter what form you take, you’re still my master.”

“Is that so.”

Dokgo Yul nodded and then asked, “So, about the Iron Hawk Sword Technique from Mount Hua…”

He had been curious about it since he first saw it, as its style bore some resemblance to the Dokgo Sword Technique.

“Master, was the move that shattered the White-Faced Ogre’s heavy sword a new form of the Dokgo Sword Technique?”

Dokgo Yul asked eagerly, his eyes shining.

Having trained alone after the Sword Demon’s death, he was thirsty for guidance.

“It is a new form, but not of the Dokgo Sword Technique. I’m developing an entirely new sword technique. I’ve only created seven forms so far.”

“Oh. Can I learn it too?”

“Yes. It was never meant to be left with the Mount Hua Sect. I intended it for you.”

Hearing this, Dokgo Yul grinned widely.

“The sword technique isn’t complete yet, so I’ll teach you the heart technique first. It’s not a new martial art, but an improved version of the Dokgo Heart Technique.”

Instead of creating an entirely new heart technique, Mu Hui had refined and developed the existing Dokgo Heart Technique, which was originally based on unorthodox methods.

In this process, the Taihe Wuling Heart Technique and various orthodox martial arts from the Martial Alliance had been invaluable.

Mu Hui sat cross-legged, watching his disciple enter meditation to absorb the new teachings.

The Dokgo Heart Technique was more stable than most unorthodox martial arts, but its roots were undeniably in the unorthodox tradition.

This meant it built up quickly but could collapse just as fast, and as one’s level increased, the barriers grew exponentially thicker and higher, a common trait of unorthodox martial arts.

In such circumstances, Dokgo Yul had reached the pinnacle on his own, without his master’s guidance, through sheer effort.

‘With the improved Dokgo Heart Technique, he might gain new insights.’

Thanks to a fortuitous encounter with the Great Elixir and the natural energy of the Absolute Realm, Dokgo Yul’s level had soared.

If he gained new insights while practicing the heart technique Mu Hui taught him, he might reach the transcendent realm.

“The depth and stability of my inner power feel different. It’s like I’ve learned an orthodox martial art.”

Dokgo Yul marveled after completing the meditation as Mu Hui instructed.

Mu Hui nodded and added, “Keep recalling the feeling of the natural energy you sensed during meditation. The transcendent realm isn’t far off for you now.”

“Yes, Master.”

Suddenly, Dokgo Yul looked dazed, prompting Mu Hui to ask, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just strange to call you Master again after so long. I never thought this day would come.”

“Hmm.”

Having received the new Dokgo Heart Technique and teachings on natural energy, Dokgo Yul looked at Mu Hui and grinned.

“It seems like this new life has softened you a lot, Master. In the past, you would have just taught me the basics and told me to figure it out myself.”

“Quiet.”

Mu Hui silenced Dokgo Yul immediately and drew his sword, the Simmyung Sword.

“Let’s head up the cliff.”

With that, Mu Hui grabbed Dokgo Yul by the scruff of his neck. Dokgo Yul looked puzzled.

“Master?”

Ignoring him, Mu Hui focused on the Simmyung Sword.

Buzz!

As Mu Hui’s will infused the sword, it emitted a clear ring. In an instant, the sword shot upward.

Startled, Dokgo Yul looked up to see the Simmyung Sword piercing through the air, carrying them with it.

“Whoa!”

Caught off guard, Dokgo Yul watched as the sword sliced through the air, swiftly ascending the cliff.

Thanks to the Simmyung Sword’s rapid ascent, Mu Hui and Dokgo Yul reached the top of the cliff in no time.

“Not bad at all.”

Dokgo Yul gaped at Mu Hui’s recent feat.

“Master, was that…?”

“Yes, it was the Sword of Will. I’m not quite used to it yet.”

Having reached the Absolute Realm, Mu Hui had fully grasped the concept of the Formless Sword.

By manifesting strong willpower, he could create phenomena, projecting his will not just from his fingertips but throughout his entire body. He could even blend his will with natural energy.

This allowed him to project his will onto a distant sword, moving it with his mind—a technique known as the Sword of Will.

Though still inexperienced, with practice, he could master new sword techniques that had previously seemed impossible.

Wielding multiple swords simultaneously or manipulating invisible blades scattered in the air with the art of sword mastery was indeed possible.

Mu-hwi, having glimpsed a new horizon in martial arts, was eager to devote himself to training.

“It seems like the Overlord’s forces aren’t around right now.”

Dokgo Yul glanced around and asked, to which Mu-hwi nodded.

“It feels like quite some time has passed while we were meditating. I sense no presence even beyond the Chamdan Mountain.”

Mu-hwi scanned the surroundings with his heightened senses, but there wasn’t a trace of the Overlord’s forces. The intricate web of surveillance had been dismantled.

“Master, what should we do now?”

Mu-hwi thought of the Overlord. The Overlord had been severely injured, with wounds deep enough to expose bone. Despite this, he had pushed himself further, worsening his injuries. By now, he was likely recuperating back at the Overlord’s fortress.

“We should return to the capital first and assess the situation in Sichuan.”

Though Mu-hwi’s heart urged him to march straight to the Overlord’s fortress and break down its gates, he knew it was more crucial to understand what had transpired in Sichuan during his absence and to adapt to his new level of mastery through training.

“There will come a time to face the Overlord again.”

For now, it was time to take a step back.

* * *

Seven days and nights had passed since the Overlord’s surveillance network was dismantled.

Yet, the clash between the Sichuan Alliance and the Overlord’s forces had not ceased.

Even without the Overlord or the Five Generals, the Overlord’s Seven were fiercely attacking the Sichuan Alliance’s front lines.

However, the resistance from the Sichuan Alliance was formidable.

“Leader! The Fifth King’s unit has been annihilated.”

“Annihilated? Impossible.”

“Yes. They clashed head-on with the Plum Blossom Swordsman, leading to this disaster.”

“Damn.”

The First King’s leader ground his teeth upon hearing the report.

“The death of the Sword Saint has driven them mad with vengeance.”

Everyone in Sichuan knew about the life-and-death duel between the Overlord and the Sword Saint of Mount Hua at Chamdan Mountain. The Sword Saint had fallen, gravely injured, into the abyss below.

With no news for seven days and nights since, it was assumed the Sword Saint had perished.

“If they wish to follow the Sword Saint, we should oblige them.”

The First King’s leader strapped his sword to his waist and stood up. Just then, a subordinate rushed into the tent, breathless.

“Leader! Urgent news. Our rear has been attacked, and three of our units have been wiped out.”

The sudden report furrowed the leader’s brow.

“What are you saying? Who is the enemy, and how many are there?”

The subordinate hesitated before answering.

“Just one sword.”

“What?”

The leader began to suspect the subordinate might be drunk.

“A lone, pitch-black sword is flying around like a ghost, cutting down all our warriors in the rear.”

The leader raised his hand to strike the subordinate but paused.

“A pitch-black sword…”

Swords with black blades were rare in the martial world. Yet, the leader immediately thought of one.

A sword with a blade as dark as night, shimmering with a violet hue.

The leader recalled the owner of that sword.

“It can’t be!”