Black Sky muttered the words “Dokgo Gugum” under his breath, his eyes glinting with a dark blue light.

“Dokgo Gugum… The martial lineage of Dokgo belongs to the dead Sword Demon. So how is it that you, the Sword Saint of Mount Hua, claim the name Dokgo Gugum?”

Black Sky fixed his gaze on Muhwi, as if demanding an answer. Muhwi paused, then raised his arm.

“Do you remember this bracelet? It’s called the Plum Blossom Spirit.”

“The Plum Blossom Spirit… Yes, I remember. It was something the previous Sword Saint entrusted to the Sword Demon. But the Sword Demon fell to his death from a cliff. Did you find it?”

“No, this Plum Blossom Spirit is newly crafted. It doesn’t emit the vibrant energy of the original, which was said to give new life to the dead.”

Black Sky’s eyebrows slowly furrowed as he pieced together the chain of events.

“Could it be… you were the Sword Demon who died?”

“Yes. I returned from the depths of that cliff.”

“I see. So that’s how it is. Now everything makes sense.”

Muhwi noted Black Sky’s unexpected calmness and asked, “You’re not surprised?”

“I’ve been beyond human limits for over fifty years. In the demonic arts, there are sorceries you can’t even imagine. This isn’t so shocking.”

Muhwi chuckled dryly. It seemed their perspectives on the world were entirely different.

Black Sky suddenly laughed, looking at Muhwi. “Mount Hua and Black Sky. The Sword Saint and the Sword Demon. We are intricately intertwined, aren’t we? Is this what they call destiny?”

“Just a persistent bad fate. A grudge from the Bloodshed of Shaanxi, and it’s time to end it.”

Black Sky gazed at the adversary fate had placed before him, his face showing more emotion than ever.

“Indeed.”

Muhwi raised his sword, and Black Sky extended his hands, assuming a stance.

“I’ve wielded countless weapons, but none as powerful and captivating as my own body.”

Black Sky’s hands turned as dark as the night sky.

“The Blood Demon Hand. A martial art crafted from a lifetime of knowledge. You, who created Dokgo Gugum, deserve to witness it.”

The Blood Demon Hand—an art embodying the solitude of a divine demon. Black Sky was fond of the name, as it encapsulated his essence.

He launched himself forward, filling the air with a flurry of hand shadows, each taking a different form. Some were open palms, others clenched fists, and some were knife-hand strikes.

Muhwi countered with a vertical slash of his sword, unleashing dozens of sword strikes. The darkened hands and the black blade began to intertwine.

The clash sent hands flying in different directions, and the sword bent as if it might break.

“Truly, all your martial knowledge is in this.”

Though the art was named for the hand, each gesture contained the essence of all the martial arts Black Sky had mastered.

Boom!

A massive force capable of crushing a pavilion was held back by the Plum Blossom’s resilience. The ground shook, and a cloud of dust rose.

Black Sky and Muhwi simultaneously unleashed techniques to disperse the dust cloud.

Crash!

The storm of energy blasts obliterated the dust cloud in an instant. Black Sky smashed through dozens of plum blossoms with his fists.

“You don’t use Dokgo Gugum but rely on the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Art.”

“It’s the right sword art to face you. Especially against the Blood Demon Hand.”

Black Sky tilted his head slightly, understanding only Muhwi’s words.

Dokgo Gugum was a sword art created to save those met after being rescued from solitude. The Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Art was born from the Sword Demon’s enlightenment in solitude, a culmination of all connections. It was a sword art to cut through loneliness.

Thus, it was the right choice against the Blood Demon Hand.

Slash!

Muhwi’s sword cut through the air, aiming for Black Sky’s waist. Black Sky ignored defense, extending his arm toward Muhwi.

Clang!

Muhwi’s brow furrowed as he deflected Black Sky’s fingers targeting his eyes. Though it seemed he cut through layers of protection, the blade didn’t penetrate.

The metallic feel of cutting skin suggested Black Sky had reached a level akin to invulnerability.

“It’s a protective art called the Demon Dragon Scale. I took it from the Demon Dragon Lord. Impressive that you pierced it.”

Muhwi chuckled dryly but thrust his sword with determination.

Above him, Black Sky’s attacks rained down, but the blooming plum blossoms met the lonely hands.

Black Sky and Muhwi were entwined like a single entity, neither yielding. In the heart of the storm of energy, both men unleashed their martial arts with ferocity.

Boom!

Rocks and broken trees soared into the sky, suspended by the overwhelming energy and internal power of the two masters.

Hundreds of exchanges passed in an instant.

The devastated landscape of Mount Zhaoyang and the storm of energy symbolized the intensity of their battle.

“Truly flawless.”

Black Sky’s movements, as he unleashed his full power, were worthy of being called a demon god. He was a perfect man with no weaknesses.

Yet, Muhwi’s violet eyes burned with fierce determination and heat.

“I can sense the scent of blood.”

Black Sky’s unbroken, steady breathing.

Though he seemed fine, his breath carried the scent of blood. The impact of Dokgo Gugum had shaken Black Sky to his core.

Muhwi wasn’t in perfect condition either, but seeing Black Sky’s human side, he clung on tenaciously.

“This isn’t an opponent to defeat while holding back. I must pour everything I’ve built into this.”

Muhwi ignited his innate energy with even greater intensity.

With a burst of violet light, Muhwi focused on Black Sky.

“Black Sky. You’re human after all.”

“No, Sword Saint. You’ve stepped into the realm of the divine.”

Black Sky’s hand and Muhwi’s sword crossed paths.

Crack!

Black Sky’s hand broke Muhwi’s collarbone, but Black Sky wasn’t unscathed.

Seeing his bleeding shoulder, Black Sky nodded.

“You’ve begun to incorporate the essence of Dokgo Gugum into the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Art.”

Muhwi nodded.

To break through the twelve layers of Demon Dragon Scale and cut through invulnerable skin, it was necessary.

And Muhwi had done it.

“How long has it been? Yes, I am alive.”

Feeling pain, Black Sky found joy.

The pain reminded him he was alive, a strange satisfaction.

With a wild laugh, Black Sky took a large step forward.

He swung his fist like a club, and Muhwi twisted his ankle, slashing diagonally with his sword.

Boom!

The ground caved in, and the two men stepped back, then closed the distance again with their techniques.

Violet trails crisscrossed as dozens of plum blossoms fell. The falling blossoms scattered petals, which then spread in all directions.

Plum Blossom Frenzy.

Watching the petals fall like a snowstorm, Black Sky casually waved his hand, as if discarding something without regret. The petals burst apart at his indifferent touch.

Solitary Pursuit of Thought.

The space left by the vanished petals was filled with the explosive energy from Black Sky’s entire being.

Solitary Sleep in Deep Darkness.

The dark energy spread widely, consuming rocks and trees, leaving nothing but silence in its wake.

The vast attack made Muhwi’s sword tremble violently. At the end of the sword’s path, a field of flowers bloomed.

With each swing of the sword, dozens of plum blossoms bloomed, and in an instant, hundreds of blossoms opened, emitting a sword fragrance.

Plum Blossom Full Bloom.

The fully bloomed plum blossoms shone with violet light, pushing back the darkness.

Muhwi, having cut through the massive wave of demonic energy, pondered.

“Was that what I could have become in my past life?”

Black Sky’s Blood Demon Hand.

Each technique bore the weight of solitude.

It seemed as if he was lonely because no one could match his martial prowess, or perhaps he was demanding someone to accept his overwhelming power.

No one could stand shoulder to shoulder with Black Sky.

Yet, Muhwi’s eyes burned with determination, ready to face the challenge head-on.

“In a way, Hyunjo saved my past life,” Mu-hui thought, vividly recalling Hyunjo’s face as if he were still by his side. He raised his sword, the Simmyung Sword, with unwavering resolve.

A thunderous roar echoed as Mu-hui was pushed back by a powerful strike, flipping through the air before landing gracefully on the ground. The martial arts of Heukcheon, honed over a lifetime, were formidable, each move as potent as the finest techniques of the martial world. It was no wonder Heukcheon felt isolated—who could possibly match him?

“In this world, only I can,” Mu-hui mused as Heukcheon leapt into the air, executing a complex maneuver. Mu-hui gripped his sword tightly, thrusting it upward with the strength of unyielding bamboo, aiming to pierce Heukcheon’s feet.

The technique, “Plum Blossoms Amongst Green Bamboo,” was met with a deafening clash. The weight and force pressing down on Mu-hui felt as if the sky itself were collapsing. His shoulders trembled, and his knees buckled, creating a crater around him. Yet, the Simmyung Sword, bolstered by his inner strength, stood firm once more.

“Haap!” Mu-hui shouted, extending his arms to push Heukcheon back. Heukcheon soared into the sky, looking down at Mu-hui as he steadied himself.

“Sword Saint, you’ve withstood all but my final technique,” Heukcheon said, gathering a massive amount of dark energy between his hands, forming a menacing, dark blue sphere. This ominous sphere was likely his final move.

Mu-hui prepared himself, lowering his sword and channeling all his energy into it. The Simmyung Sword sang with a clear, resonant tone, but its sound was soon drowned out by the ominous noise from above.

The air seemed to flee from the dark blue sphere, distorting the space around it. Powerful waves of energy pulsed outward, shaking the very fabric of reality.

“I’ve poured all my remaining strength into this final technique. Let this be the end of our duel. Are you ready, Sword Saint?” Heukcheon asked, his voice steady.

Mu-hui nodded, bringing the glowing Simmyung Sword to his middle stance. “Of course.”

“This technique is my ultimate and my best. Only one who can defeat themselves can withstand it. I’ve named it ‘Seeking Defeat in Solitude,'” Heukcheon declared as the dark sphere plummeted toward Mu-hui like a meteor, growing in size and power.

Mu-hui remained calm, extending his sword. The “Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Technique” was designed to cut through loneliness, a feat impossible to achieve alone. It required the support of countless connections.

“Hyunjo,” he thought, recalling Hyunjo, the mountain, and the many people of the martial world. As he summoned the essence of the sword technique, his grip on the sword tightened, and the Simmyung Sword felt lighter, as if twenty-four hands were guiding it.

The sword erupted with brilliant light, scattering energy in all directions. It carved a majestic path, forming a towering peak and sturdy branches capable of holding countless plum blossoms. Colors danced across the sky—purple, red, and white intertwining in a vibrant display.

Plum blossoms of every hue bloomed, some fully open, others half-bloomed, large and small alike, as if nature itself had painted them with the sword. The blossoms spread across the sky, petals swirling in the wind.

Above the mountain, a new, ethereal peak formed, filled with the noble fragrance of the sword. This scent spread far and wide, undiminished by distance, as if it could reach the ends of the earth.

“Plum Blossoms Across a Thousand Miles,” Mu-hui whispered, invoking the final and most profound technique of the “Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Technique.”

The clash between “Plum Blossoms Across a Thousand Miles” and “Seeking Defeat in Solitude” silenced even the earth-shattering noise, enveloping the mountain and the world in a profound stillness.

* * *

A rumble echoed through the valley as martial artists gathered outside, their eyes fixed on the distant mountain. Though they couldn’t climb it, the sounds of battle reached them even here.

“What kind of fight is this, to be heard from so far away?” one wondered.

“Truly a battle of a different caliber,” another remarked.

The younger disciples of the Sojung Sect climbed onto the inn’s roof, gazing at the mountain’s peak with tense expressions. Among them, Dokgo Yul and Seonju looked the most serious.

“Look!” someone shouted, pointing to the sky above the peak.

A massive, dark blue sphere appeared, so large it was visible even from afar. “It’s like a black sun falling,” someone murmured.

“Is that martial arts? What kind of battle is happening up there?” another asked.

The black sun descended, pressing down on the peak, which seemed to melt away. A shockwave erupted, sending a powerful gust of wind toward the onlookers.

“Ahh!” they cried, struggling to stay upright.

Then, something extraordinary happened. New colors joined the dark blue surface—purple, red, and white. These colors spread, with purple beams piercing the black sun.

“Plum blossoms?” someone gasped. “How many are blooming to be visible from here?”

The black sun was trapped within a storm of sword strikes and plum blossoms, appearing like a small mountain from a distance.

Seonju clasped her hands, trembling as she watched. “Brother!” she whispered.

When the plum blossoms enveloped the black sun, the sky trembled, and a vast light burst forth. The heavens seemed to darken, only for the purple hue to spread across the sky above the mountain.

The martial arts had altered the very world, leaving the onlookers speechless. After a long silence, someone finally spoke.

“Is that… the scent of plum blossoms?” they asked, sniffing the air.

Others nodded, recognizing the fragrance. Even those far from the mountain noticed the sudden, refreshing scent.

“It’s not the season for plum blossoms,” someone noted. “Where is this scent coming from?”

The rich aroma filled the air, soothing their spirits. Despite the winter season, when plum blossoms shouldn’t bloom, the martial artists realized where the scent originated.

They turned their gaze to the now-calm mountain, where the peak had been reduced in height.