Mu-hwi tried to recall a passage from the Tao Te Ching, like Baek-yu often did, but nothing came to mind. It seemed he was still far from becoming a true Taoist sage.

“Imitating a sage is out of the question,” he thought.

Mu-hwi wasn’t one for grandiose speeches or showing off. He preferred to say only what was necessary for his young disciples.

“The headmaster has taught you the proper conduct as disciples of the Mount Hua Sect. Now, I will teach you the stance you must maintain as martial artists of Mount Hua.”

With that, Mu-hwi drew his sword and leaped into the air with a technique that made him seem to float. He flipped mid-air, descending headfirst toward the ground.

A red aura emanated from his sword, pointing toward the stone floor of the training ground.

The open space was paved with blue stone slabs, each about five feet across.

Crash!

Using his sword and its aura like a brush and ink, Mu-hwi began to inscribe characters onto the stone floor.

In the brief moment he hovered in the air, he carved sixteen characters into the stone, leaving the elders watching in awe.

“Such a clear sword aura! Has Mu-hwi reached the pinnacle of his art?”

“Even so, leaving such distinct marks on blue stone is no easy feat. Remarkable.”

Only Baek-san, the treasurer, winced each time the sword struck, thinking, “Ugh, how much is this going to cost? More unnecessary expenses…”

He tried to calm himself, reminding himself that it was all for the greater good.

As Mu-hwi landed and took a stance, the stone floor, split by his sword, rose up like a monument, divided into four sections with the sixteen characters spread across them.

Standing on the platform, Mu-hwi watched his young disciples focus intently on the words he had inscribed. He recited them slowly:

“Deep roots make for thick stems.”

“Straight stems allow for many branches.”

“Strong branches bear abundant blossoms.”

“Fallen leaves return to the roots.”

Mu-hwi’s voice carried the short phrases across the training ground, and the young disciples alternated their gaze between him and the inscribed stone, pondering their meaning.

“How did he…?”

“Impressive.”

The elders, who had been listening to Mu-hwi’s words, now looked at him with newfound respect. Especially Baek-chun, who had been watching the young disciples with satisfaction, now stared at Mu-hwi with wide eyes.

“Isn’t that the essence of Mount Hua’s martial philosophy?”

Mu-hwi’s words weren’t a new revelation. They were insights every Mount Hua disciple was expected to grasp eventually. Yet, it was astonishing that Mu-hwi, who hadn’t even mastered half of Mount Hua’s martial arts, had already understood and articulated them so clearly.

“This young man truly sees far ahead,” Baek-chun thought, realizing once again the wisdom in the headmaster’s decision to emphasize the creation of the Plum Blossom Sword.

“Perfect, with four pieces, we can display one on each floor,” he mused, considering using Mu-hwi’s words as a guiding principle for the Plum Blossom Pavilion, which had four floors.

Baek-chun smiled contentedly at the four stone monuments Mu-hwi had created.

Meanwhile, Mu-hwi continued speaking.

“You are seeds. The Plum Blossom Pavilion is a place for your roots to grow thick and deep. This time, learning the basics of martial arts, is the beginning and the most crucial period of your journey as martial artists.”

Having said his piece, Mu-hwi bowed to the elders and stepped down from the platform.

“Truly, a master,” thought Im San-ha, who hadn’t taken his eyes off Mu-hwi the entire time. As Mu-hwi descended, he glanced around at the other young disciples.

They were all still fixated on Mu-hwi, likely because the vivid display of sword aura and the act of inscribing words into the famously hard blue stone had left a deep impression.

Mu-hwi, having left a brief but lasting impact on the young disciples, quietly took his seat, and the initiation ceremony concluded smoothly.

“Congratulations once again on joining the Mount Hua Sect.”

With the increase in young disciples, the Mount Hua Sect was beginning to regain its vitality.

* * *

“Damn it.”

Mu-san’s sword trembled as he stood in a middle stance.

His hands shook, and his feet seemed ready to retreat at any moment.

His mouth felt dry, as if he might cough at any second.

“I need to calm my mind and control my inner energy.”

Mu-san tried to steady himself by recalling the principles of the Nine Breaths Technique.

Warm energy stirred in his dantian, soothing his entire body.

The oppressive aura that had been suffocating him seemed to loosen slightly.

With his vision clearing, he could now see the source of the terrifying aura.

“Senior brother…”

Mu-hwi stood there, his entire being radiating a fierce, fiery aura.

His eyes shone with a sharpness that seemed ready to tear everything apart.

Mu-san didn’t want to move forward.

Even knowing the source of the aura was his senior brother, he felt he might die if he got too close.

But stopping now felt like everything would come to a halt. That scared him even more.

“Haah!”

Shaking off the oppressive aura, Mu-san launched himself forward.

His first step was clumsy.

By the third step, he had steadied himself.

By the fifth step, he had regained his usual stride.

Mu-hwi’s sword gleamed in his right hand, flashing like a serpent.

How could a sword swing make the blade appear to bend like that?

Clang!

With a sharp metallic sound, Mu-san halted.

He had to quickly pull back his sword to block a strike aimed at his throat.

Mu-hwi’s sword followed, targeting vital points all over Mu-san’s body.

In response, Mu-san countered with the Falling Plum Sword technique.

As Mu-san crossed the training ground with the Plum Blossom Step, his sword left a trail of afterimages.

A total of twelve sword shadows.

The undulating shadows enveloped Mu-hwi, but he cut through them all with a single diagonal slash.

Through the parted shadows, Mu-hwi’s sword shone like the intense sunlight of summer.

“Gasp!”

Mu-san quickly placed his palm against the flat of his sword to block Mu-hwi’s thrust.

Crack!

The impact made Mu-san’s shoulder jolt, and Mu-hwi was already airborne, descending with a diagonal slash.

“Huff!”

Mu-san struggled to control his breathing under Mu-hwi’s relentless assault.

Their feet crossed paths, moving so swiftly that they kicked up dust on the training ground.

Clang! Clang!

The two men fought with a ferocity that seemed like a life-or-death duel.

Mu-hwi was cleverly mixing Mount Hua’s sword techniques with those of the unorthodox sects. He chose only the most vicious and ruthless moves.

Though the flow of his sword sometimes broke, it was enough to handle his junior disciples. Their limited experience meant they didn’t notice the unorthodox techniques mixed into Mu-hwi’s style.

Mu-san, drenched in sweat, barely managed to fend off the practical, vital-point-targeting strikes.

But that wasn’t all. Mu-hwi also employed the underhanded tactics typical of the unorthodox sects, using any means necessary to win.

Ting!

A Go stone flew from Mu-hwi’s sleeve, targeting an opening in Mu-san’s technique. Its trajectory was as precise as a hidden weapon.

“Ugh.”

Mu-san quickly retrieved his sword, slicing the Go stone in two as it aimed for his waist. This allowed Mu-hwi to seize the momentum completely.

“Damn, I should have used my free hand.”

Clang! Clang!

Mu-hwi’s sword targeted Mu-san’s heart, forehead, solar plexus, and dantian, along with various other vital points, forcing Mu-san to retreat continuously.

The Falling Plum Sword’s shadows split and blocked the way, but Mu-hwi easily cut through them, pressing Mu-san further.

“Ugh!”

Mu-san’s body, still stiff from the oppressive aura, struggled to move freely, and the relentless attacks shook his regained composure.

“What should I do?”

Mu-san’s eyes trembled as he clutched his aching wrist.

Normally, Mu-hwi would offer advice during sparring. But not today.

Today, he fought as if it were a real battle, exuding a deadly aura and executing lethal techniques.

Mu-san had to rely solely on his own judgment to navigate the situation.

“Dragging this out against senior brother is like tightening a noose around my neck. I need to end this quickly.”

Unleashing the Plum Blossom Step to its fullest, Mu-san closed the distance and launched a surprise sword wind attack.

Two streams of sword wind crossed and flew toward Mu-hwi, but he dispersed them with a single vertical slash.

In that moment, Mu-san was airborne.

He aimed to escape Mu-hwi’s line of sight, but Mu-hwi never lost track of him.

Slash!

Mu-san’s sword technique filled the air.

While the tales of the Mount Hua Sect roamed the martial world, Mu Hui was not idle. His swordsmanship was a testament to his dedication.

Yet, with an impassive face, Mu Hui swung his sword upward, dismantling Mu San’s technique with just two swift movements.

“Ugh!”

Mu San barely managed to twist his body, narrowly avoiding Mu Hui’s thrust aimed at his shoulder.

Landing awkwardly, Mu San found himself in a precarious position, with Mu Hui’s sword descending upon him.

‘Damn it.’

With one knee on the ground and his body off-balance, he knew he couldn’t dodge in time.

The sword, usually too fast to follow, seemed to slow down at this critical moment.

Would his senior brother really cut him down like this?

There was no way he could evade the sword with his current movements.

Recalling something, Mu San grimaced and threw himself to the side.

Rolling across the ground, he narrowly escaped Mu Hui’s blade.

The disciples watching their sparring match gasped in shock.

“Lazy Donkey Roll!”

The term “Lazy Donkey Roll” was coined to mock martial artists who valued dignity above all else, for rolling on the ground was seen as disgraceful.

Especially among the orthodox sects, disciples would rather die than resort to such a move.

Mu Hui, however, calmly placed his foot on Mu San’s back as he lay on the ground.

His eyes bore down on Mu San with a chilling intensity.

With a flick of his fingers, Mu Hui spun his sword and reversed his grip, aiming it at Mu San’s throat.

‘Is this how I die?’

The fear of death erased everything else from his mind.

Who he was, what he had been doing moments ago—all that remained was the looming presence of death.

Mu San could only watch as the gleaming blade drew closer.

“Gasp!”

Mu San exhaled sharply, almost as if he were about to vomit.

The tip of the sword had just barely touched his throat.

His entire body trembled as if struck by lightning.

“Mu San, take deep breaths.”

Mu Hui grasped Mu San’s wrist, channeling his internal energy into him. Mu San’s color quickly returned.

Finally, Mu San wiped the cold sweat from his brow and looked up at Mu Hui.

“Senior Brother.”

“You did well. You lasted over twenty moves this time.”

Mu Hui smiled, and Mu San managed a weak smile in return.

“This training is really tough, Senior Brother.”

“That’s the point of it.”

Normally, Mu Hui would have scolded him for complaining, but this time he agreed.

Mu Hui’s select group of disciples engaged in special sparring sessions daily. Though called sparring, they were more like life-and-death battles.

Mu Hui unleashed his killing intent and used every trick from the unorthodox sects to push his disciples to their limits.

In these sessions, he wasn’t just Mu Hui; he was the Sword Demon.

The goal was to expose the disciples to the killing intent of masters and unexpected challenges, preparing them for real combat.

This was a training method only Mu Hui, once a Sword Demon in a past life, could conduct.

No one else in the Mount Hua Sect could exude such a dense killing aura or wield the techniques of the unorthodox sects so skillfully.

“When you venture into the martial world, you’ll be unfazed by most opponents.”

When Mu San first encountered Mu Hui’s killing intent, he trembled and dropped his sword.

But now, he had improved significantly, proving the training’s effectiveness.

“How long must we continue this training?”

“When you can withstand fifty moves, it will end.”

At that level, they could hold their own against most masters.

Rising to his feet, Mu San blushed and bowed to Mu Hui.

“Senior Brother, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For… using the Lazy Donkey Roll.”

Mu Hui sighed and spoke firmly.

“Would you rather die standing for the sake of honor?”

Mu San fell silent at Mu Hui’s reprimand.

“Even if you lose face with the Lazy Donkey Roll, you can live to restore it. What good is honor if you’re dead?”

“Um…”

“If you hadn’t used it and just stood there stupidly, you’d be getting beaten by me right now.”

Mu Hui addressed the other disciples listening in.

“When you’re out in the martial world, remember this: your opponents won’t care about honor or etiquette.”

Advice only a Sword Demon, who had clawed his way up from the bottom, could give.

The disciples nodded solemnly at Mu Hui’s serious tone.

“We understand, Senior Brother!”

* * *

As the vibrant autumn leaves of Mount Hua gave way to the stark gray of winter, snow blanketed the mountain in pure white.

The path up the mountain was treacherous even in good weather, and the winter snow made it perilous, deterring most visitors.

Yet, a group of sturdy men trudged up the mountain, undeterred by the falling snow.

Each man carried a long wooden box on his back.

The beard of the elderly man leading them was so white that the snowflakes blended seamlessly into it.

“Heh, are the plum blossoms starting to bloom?”

The old man’s wrinkles deepened as he spotted a hint of red on the snow-laden branches.

“Just a little further. Seeing the plum blossoms means we’re near the gate.”

“Yes, Master.”

The men of the Iron Flower Sect had arrived at the Mount Hua Sect.

End