The Plum Blossom Sword Formation clashed with the Night Star Killing Formation, a legendary battle formation designed to counter even the most formidable of martial arts formations. The two formations collided, and though the Plum Blossom Sword Formation was halted, the Night Star Killing Formation crumbled in the process.

“The Plum Blossom Sword Formation… It’s a formidable formation, even with the lack of information about it,” thought Yahon Sword, the leader of the Night Eighteen Swords, as he watched the Plum Blossom Sword practitioners quickly regroup.

The battle didn’t stop just because the formations had fallen. Yahon Sword’s dark energy surged like a storm. “Their strength is waning. Kill them all!” he commanded.

“Move as we practiced!” came the response, and the chaotic melee of swordsmen against swordsmen ensued.

The first round had tested the collective strength of the formations; now, it was time to measure individual martial prowess.

With a swift strike, a sword tore through the plum blossom robe, leaving Mu-hwa’s side stained red. Yet, the attacker narrowed his eyes in frustration. “Too shallow,” he thought. The strike should have cleaved through Mu-hwa’s waist, but the durability of the plum blossom robe, infused with internal energy, and Mu-hwa’s quick thinking had deflected the blow.

Mu-hwa seized the moment as the attacker retrieved his sword. With a spinning motion, he unleashed a rapid series of strikes, his movements enhanced by the unique techniques of the Plum Blossom Sword.

The attacker hesitated, overwhelmed by the dizzying assault, and in that moment of confusion, Mu-hwa’s blade found its mark.

With a slicing sound, the attacker’s head was severed. Mu-hwa landed, feeling the burning pain in his side, but he bit his lip and pressed on. Every breath he took was a moment his fellow swordsmen could ill afford.

Mu-hwa stopped the bleeding with acupressure and charged forward, intercepting a sword aimed at Mu-ryun’s shoulder. Together, they counterattacked, sending their opponent flying with a spray of blood.

“Mu-ryun, your eye!” Mu-hwa exclaimed, noticing the blood covering half of Mu-ryun’s face.

“It’s fine! It’s just a scratch. The blood’s just in the way,” Mu-ryun reassured, his left eye unscathed despite the diagonal cut above it.

“Are you sure?”

“Mu-hwa, don’t overdo it. You just saved Mu-sang on the other side, didn’t you?”

“I’m the fastest, remember?” Mu-hwa replied, and with a nod, they both dashed in different directions.

Elsewhere, Mu-cheol stood firm against three attackers, their combined assault unable to break his defense. “Die!” they shouted, their swords thrusting in unison, their dark energy intertwining into a massive sword aura aimed at Mu-cheol.

Mu-cheol exhaled deeply, his breath visible in the cold air. With a deep breath, he infused his sword with a violet energy, layering it until it filled the blade. The massive petals of a plum blossom shielded him, rotating and expanding into five petals before unleashing a powerful wave.

The iron plum blossom stood firm against the oncoming sword aura, quivering but unyielding. As Mu-cheol leaped over the attackers, his sword sliced horizontally, cutting through their defenses.

Two of the attackers fell, bloodied, while the third, barely escaping, watched Mu-cheol’s steady advance with disbelief. “Do you not feel pain?” he asked.

Mu-cheol’s robe was stained with dark red patches, yet he pressed on, considering himself the shield of the Plum Blossom Sword practitioners. “As a disciple of the Iron Plum Sword, it’s only natural,” he replied, cutting down the last attacker before moving on.

Meanwhile, Mu-jin faced Yahon Sword, who charged through the dust, his sword poised to strike. Mu-jin twisted his body, but blood spurted from his shoulder.

“Impressive martial skills for someone from the orthodox sect,” Yahon Sword remarked, glancing at the wound Mu-jin had inflicted on his hand.

Mu-jin, though struggling against Yahon Sword’s relentless assault, refused to back down. He knew that if Yahon Sword turned his attention elsewhere, his fellow disciples would be in grave danger.

Yahon Sword seemed to read Mu-jin’s thoughts, smirking. “You’ve held out long enough. Let’s end this.”

Yahon Sword’s speed increased, his sword slicing through the air with deadly precision. Mu-jin attempted to counter with the Plum Blossom Endurance technique, but it was overwhelmed.

“Once more,” Mu-jin thought, refusing to give up.

Just as he prepared to strike again, the most reliable of the Plum Blossom Sword practitioners stepped in front of him.

With a thunderous clash, a massive iron plum blossom blocked Yahon Sword’s attack.

“Mu-jin,” Mu-cheol said, but before Mu-jin could respond, he noticed a flash of violet light behind Yahon Sword.

Mu-hwa had launched a surprise attack, aiming for Yahon Sword’s back. “How dare you!” Yahon Sword growled, parrying the attack.

Mu-hwa pressed on, closing the distance and unleashing a flurry of rapid strikes, preventing Yahon Sword from gaining any momentum.

“Let’s go!” Mu-jin and Mu-cheol joined the fray, forcing Yahon Sword to contend with their combined assault. Even for Yahon Sword, it was a daunting task.

“These pests!” he cursed, as the three of them coordinated their attacks with precision, their combined strength greater than the sum of their parts.

Despite sharing the same martial arts lineage, their styles were distinct, making it difficult for Yahon Sword to counter.

“Such different sword techniques,” he thought, as one was swift, another powerful, and the third balanced all aspects, harmonizing their attacks.

With a mighty swing, Mu-cheol’s Iron Plum Sword technique forced Yahon Sword back, while Mu-hwa struck at his ankle, retreating quickly.

“Ugh!” Yahon Sword staggered, and Mu-jin seized the opportunity, his sword descending in a seemingly simple vertical slash, yet hiding nine variations within.

“Brat!” Yahon Sword countered, his sword tearing through the petals and blossoms, barely deflecting the attack. But Mu-cheol and Mu-hwa were already in position, launching their own finishing moves.

“Don’t blame us for ganging up on you,” Mu-jin said, as the massive iron plum blossom descended from above, while a flurry of blossoms spun below, scattering sharp petals.

Finally, a wave of sword energy guided the blossoms, Mu-jin’s technique leading the charge, with Mu-cheol and Mu-hwa’s blossoms following suit.

The flood of blossoms, unleashed by the three, swept over Yahon Sword.

Despite the dark energy erupting from Yahon Sword’s blade, it was soon engulfed by the torrent of blossoms.

* * *

Elsewhere, Mu-hwi and the Sword Sage moved in unison, their reflections rippling across the surface of Dongjeong Lake. Black and white sword energies intertwined, forming a circle.

At the end of the formless sword, a Taiji symbol emerged once more. As Mu-hwi watched, he executed the Plum Blossom Sword Technique, scattering violet afterimages in the air, which transformed into sword shadows and petals.

A thousand transformations unfolded in the swordplay, a testament to the endless possibilities within the art.

Petals of sword energy scattered from the tip of the Simmyung Sword, cascading over Dongting Lake. For a fleeting moment, a forest of plum blossoms seemed to bloom across the lake’s surface.

For a duel, the movements of the Sword Saint and the Sword Master were unusually slow, as if they were demonstrating sword techniques to a child.

This allowed Dongting Lake to perfectly reflect the forms of the two supreme masters.

Though their swords moved at a pace even an ordinary person might follow, the paths they carved held an inexplicable depth.

Even if one could see it, the vastness of it was beyond imitation.

With each unfolding of the Taiji Sword Technique, water swirled at the Sword Saint’s feet. Circular ripples rose gently in the air, following the path of the Taiji Sword.

Not only the petals floating around but also the droplets of water that splashed up with each step of the two masters began to rise.

The petals and droplets circled around Mu Hui and the Sword Saint, spinning in a continuous dance.

Plum blossoms bloomed in full above the circulating Taiji.

The petals and droplets, catching the sunlight held by Dongting Lake, shone brilliantly, resembling a cluster of stars floating on the lake by day.

The two swordsmen, encircled by stars and moving in slow harmony, seemed to be performing a sword dance, like a living painting.

What was certain was that the two were conversing through their swords. Only they knew the nature of their dialogue.

“……”

Thus, Mu Hui and the Sword Saint moved their swords in silence.

Splash!

As both masters simultaneously stepped forward, a wave rippled across the once-calm surface of Dongting Lake. The crossing swords began to quicken.

What had been slow now blurred into a single flash, the lake reflecting only the bright gleam of their swords.

Clang!

When Mu Hui and the Sword Saint crossed paths, they had already leaped into the air, exchanging blows mid-flight.

Hundreds of plum blossoms were reflected at once on the mirror-like surface of Dongting Lake. The Sword Saint, observing the profusion of blossoms in the air, lightly traced a circle.

As the circle was drawn, the blossoms in the air faded, and the Simmyung Sword scattered a violet light, filling the empty space with new blossoms.

The speed at which the blossoms vanished and reappeared was evenly matched. Meanwhile, the distance between the two masters closed.

Simultaneously, the Sword Saint and Mu Hui brought their swords down vertically.

Whoosh!

The force of their clash sent waves surging across Dongting Lake, turning its calm surface into a tumultuous sea.

The impact was so great that boats rowed by distant ferrymen rocked precariously.

Mu Hui and the Sword Saint were propelled apart by the shock, plummeting toward Dongting Lake.

The Sword Saint glided through the air, tracing arcs as he descended slowly, like a falling leaf.

Mu Hui seemed to be plummeting straight down but then thrust his sword toward the lake.

The blade of the Simmyung Sword sank halfway into the lake, halting his fall. Mu Hui flipped his body, landing gracefully on the lake’s surface.

The turbulent waters of Dongting Lake calmed, and Mu Hui and the Sword Saint faced each other once more.

The Sword Saint smiled at Mu Hui.

“Impressive.”

Mu Hui silently offered a respectful salute to the Sword Saint.

The Sword Saint turned his head.

“Let’s return. To Zhangsha.”

“Yes, Master.”