The town of Hwaeum was bustling with people, most of whom were martial artists armed to the teeth.

“Tsk. Can’t even get close to the mountain.”

“What can we do? The major factions have blocked the entrance.”

The martial artists gathered in Hwaeum were all eager to witness the Hwasan Sword Debate, yet none could ascend the mountain. The entrance was guarded by formidable forces like the Eocheon Brigade, the Manhyeol Brigade, and the Paewang Brigade, some of the most powerful groups in the martial world.

With such formidable guards, even the bravest martial artists dared not attempt the climb. Instead, they lingered around Hwaeum, passing the time idly. Despite the tension, there were no disputes or even minor quarrels. Everyone understood the significance of this event.

The Hwasan Sword Debate was a pivotal moment that would shape the future of the martial world. Though they couldn’t participate or even watch, the martial artists were deep in thought.

“It’s about to begin.”

“The sun has risen on the day of reckoning.”

Seonghoe muttered, and the young members of the Sojeong Brigade sipped their warm drinks, their spirits subdued despite the alcohol.

“All we can do is sit and wait.”

“Trust in our leader.”

Their voices carried a mix of concern for Muhwi and the helplessness of being mere spectators. Among them were Dokgo Yul and Seonju, both yearning to see Muhwi in person. However, the Hwasan Sect had barred outsiders during the debate, making it impossible.

“Our leader must be preparing by now.”

“The Sword Saint will handle it. He’s that kind of man.”

Listening to Jegal Myeong and Baek Li-sang, Seonju turned her gaze to the window, where the majestic view of the mountain was visible.

“Brother…”

Her grip tightened around her sword’s hilt, frustration mounting at her inability to climb the mountain. Dokgo Yul, arms crossed and expression stern, felt the same.

“Master, I’ll be waiting.”

Though he had reached a high level of martial arts, he wasn’t qualified to participate in the debate, leaving him feeling even more powerless. All they could do was hope for Muhwi’s success.

Seonju and Dokgo Yul watched the distant, snow-capped peaks of the mountain, their worries contrasting with the serene winter landscape.

* * *

On the summit of Joyang Peak, the grandmasters gathered, each calming their minds and observing one another. Hyeopje brushed snow off his bamboo hat, while the Black Night Palace Lord kept his eyes on Heukcheon, who sat with eyes closed.

Though snow piled around them, the air on Joyang Peak was not cold. The presence of the grandmasters heated the atmosphere, their mere breathing affecting the world around them.

“So, how do we fight?”

Impatient with waiting, the Heavenly Demon twirled his spear, breaking the silence.

Heukcheon turned to Muhwi. “Since you proposed the Hwasan Sword Debate, you must have a plan.”

“We don’t need detailed rules like a martial arts tournament,” Muhwi replied, surveying the grandmasters.

“If you claim to be the best, you should be able to defeat any opponent. Naturally, one will remain standing.”

Hyeopje adjusted his hat and spoke. “Muhwi, will it be a duel to the death or a friendly match?”

“That’s not for me to decide. Even in a friendly match, injuries or loss of martial arts are likely. It depends on the participants.”

“Clear enough. Do as you please,” the Black Night Palace Lord smirked, glancing at Heukcheon, who then turned to Muhwi.

“I’ll accept the proposal, but can you really face this with such uncertainty?”

Heukcheon addressed the grandmasters. “If I become the best through this debate, I’ll immediately bring order to the martial world. Surely, no one here spoke lightly of such a claim.”

His voice carried a mysterious power, stirring the grandmasters’ hearts. Yet, they were not easily swayed by mere words.

“I spoke lightly,” the Overlord’s gaze met Heukcheon’s.

“To think you can control the martial world with personal strength—are you arrogant or mad?”

“It’s a matter of perspective. You seek to conquer the martial world, while I see it as a mere toy.”

“A toy, you say…”

The Overlord’s eyes blazed with anger. For someone who had lived with the martial world as his dream and goal, it was a natural reaction.

The Heavenly Demon’s spear, spinning like a windmill, came to a halt. He planted it in the ground and chuckled.

“The martial world is a fascinating place. Perhaps you just don’t know how to enjoy it.”

“I’m curious, though. What would please my master? Does he even find joy?”

Despite the conversation between the Heavenly Demon and the Black Night Palace Lord, Heukcheon remained silent. Muhwi, observing him, spoke up.

“Do you think I proposed the Hwasan Sword Debate lightly?”

Heukcheon looked at Muhwi without a word.

“Once, the Sword Saint said that a duel with Heukcheon would not just determine the best but be a battle between good and evil. The place you prepared at the Green Deer Plains was filled with malice and murderous intent.”

Heukcheon glanced at the Sword Saint, who nodded in acknowledgment.

“That’s why I proposed the Hwasan Sword Debate—to exclude blatant malice and focus solely on martial arts. This is the path of righteousness I’ve set. You won’t find the demonic spectacle you seek here.”

Heukcheon’s face twitched, a smile forming—a strange, angry smile.

“A path of righteousness… Sword Saint, do you know? It’s because of that path that the lineage of Heukcheon continues.”

“What do you mean?”

“On the Lotus Peak of Hwasan, there’s the Jade Maiden Pond. The legend is well-known to all here.”

The Jade Maiden Pond, in front of the residence of the sect’s founder, where he supposedly saw a maiden descending on a purple sunset, inspiring the creation of the Purple Sunset Sword Technique.

Recalling the legend, Muhwi frowned at Heukcheon.

“That maiden was the founder of Heukcheon.”

The unexpected revelation left the grandmasters wide-eyed, though the Heavenly Demon muttered about its amusement, unnoticed by others.

“There were siblings who created martial arts based on the harmony of the six elements. But their pursuits differed. The man based his on the harmony of day and night, while the woman based hers on the night sky, coloring the world in her hue.”

“Zaha and Heukcheon.”

Muhwi murmured, piecing the story together.

“The man and woman, unable to reconcile their paths, dueled. The man spared the woman, who fled. Later, he became the Six Harmony Sword God, and she, the Heukcheon Demon Queen.”

The grandmasters found the tale of Hwasan and Heukcheon’s origins intriguing.

‘So that’s why he mentioned the beginning and end at Hwasan.’

Muhwi recalled Heukcheon’s words at the Green Deer Plains.

“The Sword God walked the righteous path, sparing the Demon Queen out of righteousness. Now, the Heukcheon lineage threatens the martial world.”

Heukcheon fixed his gaze on Muhwi.

“One last question. Can the Hwasan Sword Debate truly suffice? Can righteousness bring a perfect end?”

The Overlord, the Heavenly Demon, and the other grandmasters awaited Muhwi’s answer.

Facing Heukcheon’s emotionless eyes, Muhwi replied.

“You’re mistaken. Not killing indiscriminately—that’s not righteousness.”

Though he didn’t know the full story, Muhwi didn’t believe the Six Harmony Sword God spared the Demon Queen out of mere sentiment or reluctance to kill.

He sensed there was a deeper reason.

It was just a personal feeling, a hunch.

Muhwi turned to Hyeopje.

“Those who walk the righteous path carry their own sense of justice. Their swords remain steady, guided by their convictions, not swayed by external circumstances or gain. Following the path they’ve chosen, their martial arts continue unwavering. That’s righteousness.”

Through countless encounters with righteous martial artists.

Living as the greatest swordsman of the unorthodox sect, then as the senior disciple of Hwasan.

This was the answer Muhwi had found in his new life.

And he was living it even now.

Recalling their first meeting, when Muhwi spoke of justice, Hyeopje opened his mouth to speak.

“If this world were as simple as a place where killing was the only way, why would heroes exist, and why would there be a need for someone like you, Jeong Sama? We all just follow our own paths, practicing our martial arts as we see fit. We clash and collide, nothing more.”

Mu-hui tightened his grip on the blade of the Simyeong Sword.

“Don’t worry, Heukcheon. Your fate is already entwined with mine.”

Heukcheon nodded slowly after a moment of contemplation.

“I can’t say I understand, but I acknowledge it. The gaps between us will be filled by our martial arts. It’s all about the paths we’ve chosen.”

Heukcheon glanced at the gathering of supreme masters on Jo Yang Peak. They all knew why they were there.

The air around Jo Yang Peak was growing sharper, as if it could cut with each breath. The time had come.

“Who will begin the Huashan Sword Debate?”

As soon as Heukcheon finished speaking, the Overlord rose to his feet.

“I’d love nothing more than to face you right now,” he said, turning to look at Mu-hui.

“But we have unfinished business from Sichuan, don’t we? It’s time to settle this once and for all.”

The Overlord revealed a long scar running across his thick forearm, a mark left by Mu-hui.

“I agree.”

Mu-hui stood up in response to the Overlord’s challenge.

The Sword Saint and the Overlord naturally moved toward each other, while the other masters held their positions. The summit of Jo Yang Peak was vast enough that they didn’t need to make room.

Thud!

Even without taking a deliberate step, the Overlord’s mere movement made the ground tremble.

His crimson robe fluttered wildly, revealing glimpses of his iron-like physique. It was as if a massive fortress was advancing.

The aura of dominance emanated from his entire being.

With each step, the snow around him scattered as if fleeing from his presence.

The Overlord’s aura surged toward Mu-hui like an avalanche, a force of nature sweeping everything in its path.

Watching the Overlord’s overwhelming presence, Mu-hui smirked. A gentle breeze began to swirl around his shoulders.

‘So, you weren’t using your full strength in Sichuan.’

Boom!

The space between the Overlord and Mu-hui suddenly rippled, releasing a suppressed roar.

Mu-hui’s aura met the Overlord’s head-on.

Unlike the Overlord’s ferocious energy, Mu-hui’s was light yet profound, like the delicate fragrance of plum blossoms spreading gently in the air.

Mu-hui’s aura quietly established its own domain, pushing back the Overlord’s relentless force.

Even amidst the clash of energies, the two masters continued to stride toward each other without hesitation.

Mu-hui slowly drew the Simyeong Sword.

The Overlord rolled up his sleeves, revealing his thick forearms as if preparing for a dance with the red dragon.

Ten paces.

When the distance closed to ten steps, the Overlord extended his palm. A massive force shaped like a hand reached out toward Mu-hui, threatening to tear and crush.

Mu-hui raised the Simyeong Sword, slicing upward in a fluid, natural motion. The Overlord’s hand met the blade’s path.

Clang!

The Overlord’s left hand clawed at the air, as if performing a martial form, but the Simyeong Sword blocked its advance.

“So it all started with that minor incident at the Great Gate… and now it leads to the Huashan Sword Debate,” the Overlord said with a laugh, pushing against the Simyeong Sword.

Mu-hui smirked in return.

In this life, as in the last, their enmity had begun with a small clash. It had grown until the Overlord’s fortress was set against the Sword Demon.

Sometimes, it wasn’t about deep-seated grudges or shadowy conspiracies. In a world of swords, not every conflict was grand or sinister.

The martial world was, after all, a place where people lived.

Nothing special about it.

“Isn’t that just how the martial world is?”

As Mu-hui’s sword struck the fingers gripping its blade, the Overlord’s palm surged forward from the other side.

Mu-hui responded by slicing the Simyeong Sword diagonally.

The Sword Saint and the Overlord unleashed their martial arts without reservation.