With a single strike, Woo Taegang poured all his strength into the attack.

The force emanating from his entire body was so intense that the shattered fragments of the ground around him trembled.

Boom!

Woo Taegang, muscles bulging, charged forward like an arrow released from a bow.

His waist twisted, and his shoulders pulled back, his fist glued to his side.

At the perfect distance, his fist exploded outward from his side.

Speed and weight combined, and he concentrated all his inner energy into the strike.

The straight punch cut through the air, parting it as if making way.

“Is this kid for real?”

Mu Hui’s lips curled into a smile at the simplicity of the attack.

Most young fighters of this age would be captivated by the overwhelming power of a supreme technique.

He had expected Woo Taegang to unleash the most powerful move of the Celestial Iron Fist, but he didn’t.

The move Woo Taegang claimed to be confident in was simply a full-force straight punch.

Woo Taegang had put everything into that single punch. Unwavering and resolute.

“Truly a disciple of the Iron Mountain Fist King.”

The sheer presence in that punch made it appear larger in Mu Hui’s eyes.

It wasn’t just raw power; it carried a hint of Woo Taegang’s intent.

For someone so young to deliver such a weighty punch, he might one day earn the title of Fist King.

Seeing Woo Taegang’s punch, Mu Hui reconsidered.

He had planned to counter Woo Taegang’s supreme technique with a suitable move of his own, but seeing this punch, he felt compelled to respond in kind.

He adjusted his grip on the sword and lowered his stance. The sword, raised high, gleamed with a brilliant red light.

“A fitting response for such a fine punch.”

The sword descended in a vertical slash.

Gone were the elaborate maneuvers Mu Hui had shown before.

It was a simple, clean cut.

Woo Taegang’s eyes trembled as he watched.

The red line traced in the air by the sword expanded, forming a crimson wall before him.

As if to say, “This is your limit.”

Only Woo Taegang, with his honed senses, could fully perceive the force behind the sword.

“What kind of slash is this…”

Though he had faced many swordsmen in duels, none had ever delivered such an overwhelming strike.

Excited, Woo Taegang almost laughed, but he saved even his breath for the punch.

He aimed his fist at the center of the red wall before him.

Sword and fist collided.

“Hmm?”

The spectators were puzzled when nothing happened despite the immense energy displayed by the two men just before impact.

Only a gentle breeze blew.

In the brief moment it took for a single breath, cracks appeared on the ground where the sword and fist met.

Crack!

The cracks rapidly widened, tearing the ground apart and extending outward.

It was as if an earthquake had split the arena in two.

“What on earth…”

Even the seasoned warriors of the Flower Soul Sect couldn’t comprehend what had just occurred, but only Ma Yeonho saw through the phenomenon.

“He sliced it without a hint of waste.”

There was no mystical martial principle at play.

Mu Hui had simply bisected Woo Taegang’s concentrated fist force with a precise vertical cut.

Thus, Mu Hui, who had absorbed the force head-on, remained unaffected, while the ground on either side bore the brunt of the split power.

Ma Yeonho narrowed his eyes, examining Woo Taegang’s hand.

The right hand that had reached out to Mu Hui bore no injuries. It meant Mu Hui had used just enough force to slice through the power.

“Is there any other young talent who could display such a clean cut?”

Not just among the young, but even across the entire martial world, such skill was rare.

“Surpassing the master, indeed.”

It seemed the winner of the bet between the disciples was neither himself nor the Sword Demon, but the Sword Saint.

“Hmm.”

Woo Taegang stared at his outstretched fist for a long moment before bowing to Mu Hui.

“I lost, Master Mu Hui.”

“It was a good duel.”

“Haha, my first defeat.”

Woo Taegang chuckled lightly, his eyes slightly dazed.

Mu Hui could guess why.

The slash he had just witnessed must still be lingering in his mind.

“If you keep striving to surpass that strike, you’ll naturally find yourself a step higher.”

Mu Hui felt no need to voice this thought. Woo Taegang seemed to have already begun pondering it.

Mu Hwa, watching Mu Hui walk alongside Woo Taegang with his usual expression, asked,

“So that big guy was undefeated until now?”

“Yes.”

“And you broke his winning streak, senior brother?”

“Yes.”

Mu Hwa marveled at Mu Hui, who responded with indifferent answers.

“Wow.”

At that moment, Mu Cheol, who had been silent, suddenly asked Mu Jin,

“Senior brother Mu Jin, if you were to duel with Woo Taegang, how do you think it would go?”

Mu Jin hesitated at Mu Cheol’s question.

Admitting he might lose was uncomfortable.

But Mu Jin answered calmly.

“I would probably lose.”

He could acknowledge his current shortcomings because he was confident he could become stronger.

Hearing Mu Jin’s answer, Mu Cheol fell silent for a moment before replying.

“I feel the same. I can even imagine my sword breaking.”

“Being out in the martial world, I realize there are so many talented individuals. I’m glad I left the mountain.”

As the atmosphere grew heavy, Mu Hwa, watching Mu Jin and Mu Cheol, tapped their arms in turn.

“Senior brother says it’s normal for us to be neck and neck at our age.”

“When did he say that?”

“I once secretly asked him how I could surpass you all.”

Mu Jin and Mu Cheol’s gazes turned to Mu Hwa, who confidently placed her hands on her hips.

“Don’t think I’ll always be content with being third among the Three Flowers, senior brothers.”

“I have no intention of being satisfied with second place.”

“Haha, you disciples are quite ambitious. Overreaching isn’t good, you know.”

Mu Cheol spoke firmly, while Mu Jin let out a somewhat stiff laugh. Sparks flew between the disciples’ eyes.

It seemed another duel might break out at any moment.

Watching the disciples, Mu Hui sighed.

“What are you all doing now?”

Ma Yeonho, observing Mu Hui with the disciples, crossed his arms.

“I was considering visiting the mountain out of concern, but it seems there’s no need.”

Kang Bo-eum, standing beside Ma Yeonho, asked,

“Do you have another destination in mind?”

“I’m heading to the Gu Yu Sword Sect. Isn’t one of the Six Dragons there? There are many skilled swordsmen.”

Kang Bo-eum chuckled wryly.

Only the Iron Mountain Fist King would visit the Gu Yu Sword Sect, one of the Seven Heavenly Sects, for a disciple’s duel.

“Master.”

“Now it’s one loss.”

Ma Yeonho extended his fist to the approaching Woo Taegang, who met it with his own.

It was a unique greeting between Ma Yeonho and Woo Taegang.

“Though the defeat is disappointing, it feels more valuable than winning ten duels.”

Woo Taegang scratched his head as he spoke, and Ma Yeonho laughed heartily, patting his shoulder.

“Indeed, there’s more to learn and gain from defeat than victory in a duel. Reflect well on it tonight.”

“Master, I’d like to stay here a bit longer.”

Since it was rare for Woo Taegang to make such a request, Ma Yeonho welcomed it.

“Master, could we find a place for the two of us to stay for a few days?”

“Of course. I’ll arrange a guest house for you.”

“Thank you, senior.”

“Thank you, Master.”

Woo Taegang’s desire to stay at the Flower Soul Sect was likely because of Mu Hui. No one who had experienced the fiery competitive spirit of youth would be unfamiliar with it.

Kang Bo-eum, understanding Woo Taegang’s feelings, simply smiled.

“Stay as long as you like.”

* * *

“This should do.”

Ma Yeonho, wandering the forest near Mount Yeosan, nodded at the spacious clearing.

“Are you sure about this?”

He asked Mu Hui, who was following him.

Ma Yeonho had a tradition of offering martial guidance to Woo Taegang’s duel opponents as a token of appreciation.

But Mu Hui had requested a duel instead of instruction.

“I’m sure.”

“Heh, the Sword Demon’s disciple said the same thing and fainted in a single exchange. You might miss a good opportunity.”

Mu Hui chuckled, recalling his disciple, and nodded.

“Please.”

“Then, as I mentioned, I’ll only use the same level of inner power as you.”

“Yes.”

Mu Hui raised his sword to mid-level, focusing on Ma Yeonho.

“Surviving three exchanges would be impressive.”

Even with equal inner power, he couldn’t match Ma Yeonho.

While Mu Hui was still unrefined in many areas, Ma Yeonho, aside from inner power, was the Iron Mountain Fist King in every other aspect.

Even without using his full strength, Ma Yeon-ho could easily defeat Mu-hui.

Yet, Mu-hui challenged him anyway, driven by a desire to push himself further.

What Mu-hui feared most was complacency and overconfidence.

His past life experiences had already allowed him to grow at an extraordinary pace, so he needed to be even more vigilant.

The gap created by this new life.

What he anticipated in his mind and what he experienced physically were worlds apart, and Mu-hui wanted to bridge that unknown gap himself.

Moreover, since he was developing his skills with the martial arts of the Mount Hua Sect rather than his past life’s techniques, it was all the more necessary.

“It’s been a while since I felt like this.”

A showdown with a formidable opponent.

Mu-hui’s heart pounded as he lowered his stance, facing Ma Yeon-ho.

Anticipating the fierce battle that was about to unfold.

“Come at me.”

Ma Yeon-ho said, lightly clenching his fist, and Mu-hui immediately launched himself forward.

As Ma Yeon-ho’s fist met Mu-hui’s sword, a sharp resonance echoed, and the blade bent as if it might snap.

Mu-hui deftly rotated his wrist, adding strength to his grip, and the sword, like a snake raising its head, aimed for Ma Yeon-ho’s forearm.

Ma Yeon-ho’s lips twitched as Mu-hui used the power in his sword to counterattack.

The trembling sword split into nine strands, attempting to engulf Ma Yeon-ho’s right arm. With a casual flick, as if swatting away a fly, Ma Yeon-ho dispersed the sword’s energy.

In that moment, the tip of Mu-hui’s sword branched out endlessly.

Like dozens of branches sprouting from a single tree.

“Such delicate changes from a late-stage practitioner.”

But as Ma Yeon-ho reached out and grasped, Mu-hui’s sword energy shattered. Simultaneously, Ma Yeon-ho’s left fist surged toward Mu-hui’s waist.

Even though it was just a fist coming at him, Mu-hui’s skin tingled. He responded with his left hand.

From Mu-hui’s palm, plum blossom petals seemed to gather and scatter in the wind.

He added the Falling Flower Palm and Bamboo Leaf Hand techniques, each finger moving independently.

The myriad changes in force and shadow flowed in different directions. He even mixed in the techniques of the Four Shadows and Ghostly Eight Hands.

The changes at Mu-hui’s fingertips grew richer, tickling Ma Yeon-ho’s fist.

“Hmm?”

It felt like children trying to pull his fist into their embrace from all directions.

The trajectory of his fist shifted slightly, allowing Mu-hui to narrowly evade it.

But then Ma Yeon-ho’s leg technique, like a whip, came sweeping in from the opposite side.

Mu-hui struck the air to create a rebound, dodging the leg technique and thrusting his sword toward Ma Yeon-ho’s shoulder.

Ma Yeon-ho twisted his body slightly, deflecting the sword’s point, and raised his hand.

His hand, slicing through the air, traveled up the sword’s edge, aiming to grasp Mu-hui’s wrist.

“If he catches me, it’s over.”

Mu-hui swung his arm to thwart Ma Yeon-ho’s attempt.

But the flexible sword couldn’t push Ma Yeon-ho’s arm away, and with Ma Yeon-ho using the absorption technique in his palm, Mu-hui’s hand was caught.

“Now you can’t escape.”

Ma Yeon-ho mercilessly thrust his palm toward Mu-hui’s chest, and Mu-hui calmly countered with his left palm. Ma Yeon-ho’s eyebrow twitched.

As the strange palm technique that had twisted his fist’s trajectory unfolded again, Ma Yeon-ho twisted his palm, unleashing the Spiral Palm.

The internal energy swirled around his palm, and Mu-hui’s force was swept into the vortex.

With a sound like a drum tearing, Mu-hui spun through the air like a broken kite, crashing into a tree.

“Cough!”

Mu-hui coughed up blood and slumped to the ground. He tried to stand but his body wouldn’t obey.

“Heh.”

Mu-hui let out a low chuckle.

He had held his own better than expected, and that was a satisfying outcome.

“Are you alright, junior?”

“I’m fine.”

Ma Yeon-ho chuckled at Mu-hui’s faint response. A mere late-stage practitioner had managed to exchange blows with the Iron Mountain Fist King?

“A genius, a talent bestowed by the heavens.”

Watching Mu-hui with half-closed eyes, Ma Yeon-ho suddenly clapped his hands as if remembering something.

“By the way, what was that martial art you used with your left hand? It seemed like Mount Hua’s techniques, but it felt like a mix of several styles…”

“That’s right, I mixed them to my liking. I was thinking of a new palm technique to use alongside my sword.”

If anyone else had said such a thing, Ma Yeon-ho might have frowned at the boast, but coming from Mu-hui, it made sense.

“Have you decided on a name for this new martial art?”

Ma Yeon-ho asked, his chest muscles twitching with curiosity.

Mu-hui furrowed his brow, his expression serious.

“A name… you say?”