For three months, Mu-hui had been mimicking Amhu’s movements, and in doing so, he came to a profound realization.

Amhu wasn’t merely imitating the Huashan Sect’s body techniques and blending them into his own style. No, it was something far more profound. The Huashan mountains, with their razor-sharp peaks, were traversed freely only by the wind and the subtle scent of plum blossoms.

Amhu had captured the essence of the wind that roamed these mountains and expressed it through the Huashan Sect’s techniques.

“At first, I just wanted to extract movements that suited me,” Mu-hui mused.

This approach had slowed his progress in some areas. However, once he grasped the fundamental nature of Amhu’s footwork, he gained a unified understanding of all the movements he had observed.

From that moment on, with each step he took, Mu-hui’s mastery of the body techniques evolved daily.

This newfound insight also allowed him to view the myriad techniques he had learned in his past life from a fresh perspective.

“Adding anything more would be superfluous,” he concluded.

There was no need to incorporate techniques from other sects.

The freedom and elegance of the wind. The subtlety and distance of the plum blossom’s scent. These were the core ideas.

Amhu had woven these elements into his own movements, and Mu-hui, through his unique method, crafted new forms and styles.

For long, linear movements, he integrated the lightness of Bu-un-yak-bo, the acceleration of Seon-hyang-bo and Bi-ryu-bo, and the swiftness of Kuae.

For diagonal, three-dimensional movements, or in combat and short-range scenarios, he combined the illusions and transformations of Oh-haeng-mae-hwa-bo and Hwan-hwan-mi-jong-bo.

“Every movement should be possible in a single step, like the unpredictable wind,” he thought.

Summoning one’s own wind with a single step—this was the core idea of this martial art.

Since this technique combined both footwork and body movement, mastering it meant it could be applied in any situation.

Mu-hui opened his eyes and stood up quietly. Amhu, with his tail lazily swaying, seemed to be dozing off.

Rustle!

Mu-hui’s ankle twitched as he took in the view of the basin before him, and in an instant, he was shooting towards the distant cliff.

Though his movements weren’t as flashy as Seon-hyang-bo, he easily surpassed the speed of Bi-ryu-bo.

As he shot towards the cliff, his body tilted, and he kicked off the cliff.

His movement was so light it seemed as if he barely touched the cliff.

When Mu-hui executed the technique, his sleeves, which usually fluttered like flags, now only gently swayed, like a butterfly’s wings.

It was proof that he wasn’t resisting the wind but riding its flow.

“This is it,” he thought.

Mu-hui crossed the basin and exited the cave, weaving through the dense forest.

His movements through the forest were markedly different from three months ago.

Previously, his movements clearly showed an effort to avoid obstacles, but now he flowed naturally, as if he were part of the forest.

After circling the forest, Mu-hui stopped, and only then did Amhu sense something and open his eyes.

“Chirp?”

While Amhu watched him, Mu-hui reflected on the movements he had just performed.

His movements were so subtle and mysterious that an opponent wouldn’t immediately notice them.

Like the scent of plum blossoms that lingers in the nose as one climbs Huashan.

And the range of his movements was as boundless as the free wind that swept across the mountain peaks.

Swift as a gale, graceful as a gentle breeze, and unpredictable as a swirling wind.

“Hmm…”

Mu-hui thought that the words “step” and “body” didn’t quite fit this martial art.

“How about ‘Pyo’?” he mused.

The word conveyed the idea of fluttering, and it also meant the shape of the wind, making it a perfect fit for the martial art.

Since he had drawn inspiration from the wind and the scent of plum blossoms, he decided to name it “Pung-hyang-pyo” (Wind Scent Flutter).

“This time, the name fits well,” he said to himself, nodding in satisfaction.

As Mu-hui nodded to himself, Amhu approached him.

“Chirp?”

Amhu, as if challenging him to a duel, tapped Mu-hui’s waist with the plum blossom sword.

Mu-hui reconsidered.

“This little guy was a big help…”

It wouldn’t be wrong to say that he had developed this martial art thanks to Amhu. So, incorporating a character from Amhu’s name wouldn’t be a bad idea.

After a moment of thought, Mu-hui replaced “Pung” (Wind) with “Am” (Dark).

“Am-hyang-pyo” (Dark Scent Flutter).

“Am-hyang” also meant a subtle fragrance, making it a fitting name.

“This martial art will be called Am-hyang-pyo,” he declared.

“Chirp.”

Despite Mu-hui’s words, Amhu merely looked indifferent, lightly shaking the plum blossom sword.

With a smile, Mu-hui drew his sword, and Amhu immediately flipped over, striking upward from below.

Mu-hui deftly deflected Amhu’s strike with a half-circle motion.

Clang!

After about a hundred exchanges, Amhu seemed to tire, panting heavily and curling his tail.

Watching Amhu, Mu-hui sheathed his sword and asked, “Amhu, are you still not letting me into that cave?”

In response, Amhu bared his teeth and let out a fierce cry.

“Chirp!”

There was another cave deeper within the basin. Mu-hui had tried to enter it several times, but Amhu always knew and got angry.

What treasure could be hidden in that cave to make him so protective?

“How much candy and wine have you had, you stingy fellow,” Mu-hui chided.

At his reproach, Amhu merely turned his head away.

“Chirp!”

Mu-hui could overpower Amhu and enter the cave if he wanted, but he didn’t feel the need to go that far.

He believed that if he continued to stay with Amhu in Huashan, he would eventually be allowed in.

***

“What do you think? Is it worth learning?” Mu-hui asked.

“Hmm, compared to Oh-haeng-mae-hwa-bo, the basics seem easier. I can’t say about the advanced levels yet,” Mu-hwa replied.

“With each level of mastery, it will become twice as profound,” Mu-hui assured.

Mu-hwa’s eyes burned with determination.

“Senior brother, is it really okay to learn just this one technique?”

Watching Mu-hwa’s steps with his arms crossed, Mu-hui nodded confidently.

“Yes. It’s a martial art you can carry with you for life.”

Having named the technique Am-hyang-pyo and organized it into a manual in the basin, Mu-hui was certain.

This Am-hyang-pyo would become the signature body technique of the Huashan Sect.

“Alright, I’ll trust you this time, senior brother.”

“You’ve never regretted listening to me, have you?”

“Hehe, that’s true.”

Mu-hwa was practicing Am-hyang-pyo, stepping in the directions Mu-hui had taught him.

Mu-hui glanced at Mu-cheol and Mu-jin, who were on the other side. Although he had taught Am-hyang-pyo to all the Huashan disciples, those two were still struggling.

It wasn’t that Mu-jin and Mu-cheol were lacking; rather, Mu-hwa’s talent for footwork shone brighter.

It had only been three days since he started teaching Am-hyang-pyo, yet Mu-hwa had already achieved the first level of mastery.

Mu-hwa’s foot extended with minimal force and maximum elasticity, gliding across the training ground floor.

Watching this, Mu-hui nodded in approval.

While overseeing the training of the Huashan disciples, Mu-hui heard Mu-san calling him from afar.

“Senior brother!”

Mu-san, along with Mu-ryun and Mu-ho, was walking towards Mu-hui.

Seeing them, Mu-hui nodded.

“Is it time to depart already?”

“Yes, senior brother!”

Mu-san replied energetically, clearly excited.

Today was the day these three disciples would embark on their journey into the martial world.

“You mentioned going to Xiao Huashan, right?”

Xiao Huashan was located much further north than Pocheng, where Mu-hui and his group had previously visited.

It was a strategic location near the territory of the Gu-you Sword Sect, with the border of Gansu to the west.

The mission for these disciples was to head to Xiao Huashan Manor, a secular establishment, and assess the situation with the nearby Zhanlong Society and Gu-you Sword Sect.

This was part of Baiyu’s strategy to strengthen vigilance against these two sects following the recent attack by the Overlord Castle.

Due to the mission’s potential danger, four first-generation disciples would accompany them, but in reality, the disciples were tagging along under the guise of a martial world journey.

“Even though the senior brothers are accompanying you, you must take good care of the disciples. You understand, right?”

“Don’t worry, senior brother,” Mu-ryun replied confidently, bowing his head.

Mu-hui looked at the three disciples before him.

They had endured the harsh training and gained ample real-world experience during the Six Harmonies Sword Gathering.

He believed they would be able to handle themselves even if something unfortunate happened.

“When I first started teaching the Six Harmonies Sword, it seemed so daunting,” he reminisced.

Back then, he thought they wouldn’t last three days in the martial world, but now they were ready to leave Huashan with confidence.

As he watched the three disciples walk away after their farewells, Mu-hui turned his gaze to the second-generation disciples diligently practicing their swordsmanship in the center of the training ground.

All the second-generation disciples were now functioning well.

They were focused on mastering the three sword techniques: Nongpung, Manhyang, and Nakmae, in preparation for the next sword ceremony.

“For the next sword ceremony, the goal should be for everyone to receive a plum blossom sword,” Mu-hui thought.

Having reached the eighth level of mastery in the Plum Blossom Sword Technique, Mu-hui believed that with his guidance, the second-generation disciples’ progress would accelerate.

“Elite, there’s no need to add the word ‘few’ in front of it,” he mused.

Mu-hui intended to train all the second-generation disciples to this level.

“The presence of those guys has a surprisingly big impact.”

Mu-hui turned his gaze from the second-generation disciples to the Huashan disciples.

Watching the Huashan disciples train with the new martial arts they received from the Plum Blossom Sword, the other disciples were also pouring their heart and soul into their training.

It was as if they had set a clear goal and were burning with the desire to train. The Huashan disciples were having a positive influence on the second-generation disciples.

“Come to think of it, the Sword Saint mentioned something similar.”

The disciples of the Wudang Sect dedicate all their time to the sword, aspiring to become one of the Seven Swords of Wudang.

Rather than vague martial arts achievements, having a clear, visible goal ignites the disciples’ motivation to train.

The Eighteen Arhats of Shaolin.

The Seven Swords of Wudang.

Becoming part of the martial prowess that represents a sect is a great honor for the disciples.

“It would be nice if Huashan had something similar…”

Mu-hui pondered over a name but quickly shook his head.

It was an unnecessary worry for now. They could discuss it once the second-generation disciples became strong enough.

***

The atmosphere in the main hall was heavy.

The members of the Baekri family had finally ascended Huashan, accompanied by Gongji.

In the hall stood Baekri Sang, renowned as the “Dragon of the Canal Sword,” and beside him was a middle-aged man who bore a striking resemblance to him.

“Those arrogant Baekri folks, still as stiff as ever.”

Mu-hui sat quietly next to Baek-yu, glaring at the Baekri family’s retainers.

Baek-yu looked directly at the middle-aged man from the Baekri family and spoke.

“I didn’t expect the head of the family to come to Huashan personally.”

It was only natural for someone of significance to come when a martial arts contest that put the honor of each sect on the line was taking place. However, Baek-yu had assumed that the Sword King would ascend Huashan himself as the Grand Elder.

After all, he was the one who had the most influence in causing this situation.

In response to Baek-yu’s dry question, Baekri Geuk, the head of the Baekri family, took a sip of plum tea.

“The Grand Elder intended to come, but I persuaded him otherwise. I believed it was necessary for the head of the family to come to Huashan personally.”

Baek-yu stroked his beard in silence, while Gongji, who had not been informed beforehand, looked at Baekri Geuk with a grave expression.

“I agreed to restore our family’s honor after the previous defeat, but I wasn’t pleased with the Grand Elder’s suggestion to exploit Huashan’s turmoil and the righteous assembly.”

If they had recklessly sought revenge without any justification during such chaotic times, they would have faced criticism from all sects, and the contest itself might not have been established.

By presenting the righteous assembly as a justification, at least Shaolin was intervening to mediate.

“Hmm…”

Baek-yu’s hand, which had been stroking his beard, slowed at Baekri Geuk’s words.

“No matter how much of a Grand Elder he is, the decision-making power lies with the head of the family, doesn’t it? So why did you yield?”

“Because the Grand Elder, no, my father, asked me for the first and last time.”

Baekri Geuk had grown up watching the back of the Sword King all his life.

The Sword King lacked nothing in martial arts or background, reigning at the pinnacle of the martial world and engraving his name across the land.

For the first time, the Sword King bowed his head and made a request to Baekri Geuk. The once unyielding figure was now bending without strength.

At that moment, Baekri Geuk realized that the back of his father, once as imposing as Mount Tai, had truly shrunk.

It was then that Baekri Geuk understood that the Sword King had not only lost his sword to the Sword Saint but something far more important had also been broken.

Having recognized this change, Baekri Geuk had no choice but to make a decision as a son, not as the head of the family.

“Being swayed by familial ties, I couldn’t refuse the Grand Elder’s request, and I made a selfish choice to tarnish Huashan’s honor for the sake of the Baekri family’s reputation.”

Baekri Geuk slowly rose from his seat.

“As the head of the Baekri family, it is only right that I personally apologize.”

With hands clasped together, Baekri Geuk bowed deeply toward Baek-yu.

Just as his father had done to him.

Baek-yu, Gongji, and even Mu-hui widened their eyes in surprise.

For a leader of one of the three great families, who valued pride and honor as dearly as life, to bow so humbly was unheard of.

“Headmaster, I formally apologize to Huashan. Our family, which holds a seat among the three great families, has shown an unbecoming and disgraceful side.”

Baekri Sang, who had been sitting quietly, also stood and bowed.

“I, Baekri Sang, the young master of the Baekri family, offer my apologies to Huashan.”

“Gongji, our family’s petty actions have disturbed the abbot’s peace, so I will visit Shaolin to apologize after the contest.”

As Baekri Geuk sought forgiveness from Shaolin as well, Gongji could only chant a Buddhist prayer.

“Amitabha…”

Watching this, Mu-hui clicked his tongue inwardly.

“Because of that stubborn old Sword King, how many people are suffering now?”

Baek-yu let out a sigh as he looked at Baekri Geuk, who still had his head bowed.

“Heh…”

Before meeting Baekri Geuk, Baek-yu had received a report from Baek-san, the head of the finance pavilion, that the Baekri family had brought numerous gifts.

He had wondered why there were gifts for a martial arts contest, but now the situation was becoming clear.

It seemed Baekri Geuk would not raise his head first, so just as Baek-yu was about to speak.

[Headmaster, we understand the Baekri family’s situation, but isn’t it ultimately their problem? It doesn’t concern Huashan.]

[That’s true.]

[Since the Baekri family is admitting their fault, isn’t there something we can… receive?]

After a moment of contemplation following Mu-hui’s telepathic message, Baek-yu called out to Baekri Geuk.

“Head of the family.”

Baek-yu’s calm voice resonated through the hall.