Chapter 167

Despite unleashing a full-speed charge, the three iron spheres I couldn’t dodge were moments away from piercing through my back.

I couldn’t help but shudder.

Not because I was about to be impaled by unavoidable iron spheres.

No—the real shock was that the spheres, which should have already gone through me, had come to a complete stop right there.

And the same was true for my own body, which had been hurtling forward.

It was a sensation I’d felt before.

Time… had stopped.

At that moment, a voice echoed in my mind once again.

• You’ve finally passed all three trials. Congratulations.

“Ah!”

A surge of overwhelming joy flooded my chest.

It was Mukrang.

Probably the spirit of the Sword God himself, finally appearing to speak to me again.

I glanced at the wolf’s eyes etched into the lake shore—they were faintly glowing.

The voice spoke again.

• To be honest, you passed the trial the moment you threw yourself to save those ronin earlier. My test was to prove three times that you could sacrifice yourself for others. But I wanted to make a more dramatic entrance, so I waited.

Of course!

The trial was about risking your life for others.

My guess had been right.

Then a thought suddenly struck me: “Then wasn’t the moment I threw myself to save Senior Son, the third time?”

When I had once tried to sacrifice myself for Tang Sojeo, Mukrang’s sword was hidden elsewhere, and that was just an illusion, so that didn’t count. But when I leapt to save Senior Son, that was real.

The answer came immediately.

• That one doesn’t count. You threw yourself expecting me to appear, so it can’t be considered a pure act of self-sacrifice.

The voice was cheerful but a little teasing.

So, I had to risk my life purely, without any expectation that Mukrang would show up.

That was an incredibly strict condition.

But it didn’t matter anymore.

As he said, there was no better moment for him to appear than now.

• Now, time is short, so I’ll get straight to the point. I’ve left different martial arts within each of the five swords. They’re all inspired by different sword techniques. The Mukrang Sword holds the Mukrang Sword Style and Mukrang Mind Technique. The names are simple, but the content isn’t. They’re inspired by Cheonma Divine Skill and Asura Pa Cheonmu.

Hearing that, I momentarily forgot the situation and was stunned.

“…What?!”

Five swords? There was another one?

No, more than that—Cheonma Divine Skill? Asura Pa Cheonmu?

Why were those names coming up here?

Cheonma Divine Skill, the sword technique Asura Pa Cheonmu, and the footwork Cheonma Gunlimbo were the pinnacle martial arts of the Cheonma Sect, passed down for a thousand years.

Cheonma was the symbol of the sect’s leader and one of the absolute rulers of the current martial world—the Ten Great Swordsmen, including Ilje, Ewang, Samsung, Sama, and Ogae.

So Mukrang was saying he had created a new martial art using the Cheonma Sect’s greatest secret techniques, Cheonma Divine Skill and Asura Pa Cheonmu.

Then he continued in a cheerful tone.

• Ah, don’t worry about being corrupted by demonic energy. The Mukrang Mind Technique I created doesn’t build up demonic energy. It even cancels out the soul-subduing effects of the Supreme Divine Eye. Your elder brother seemed to use that well, but soul-subduing techniques are a bit too demonic, aren’t they? Instead, I maximized regeneration. If you master it beyond seven stars, you could regenerate even if you lost an arm.

Something utterly unreal was sinking into my mind.

Regenerate a lost arm?

Like a lizard’s tail?

I understood the words but couldn’t quite believe them.

I blankly asked again.

“…What?”

• Hm, I guess you didn’t know Cheonma Divine Skill was called the Immortal Divine Skill. Even a low-level Cheonma of this era can regenerate an arm.

“Oh… so the Cheonma, one of the Ten Great Swordsmen, is considered low-level?”

Listening to such wild claims so casually was making me lose touch with reality.

Mukrang clicked his tongue and replied.

• To be the head of the Cheonma Sect and yet be called nothing more than one of the Ten Great Swordsmen, not even a Demon God, Demon King, or Demon Emperor—that’s pretty low-level.

“…I see.”

I decided to just accept it.

• Anyway, what I want to say is that I can move your body in your place exactly three times to teach you these sword techniques. So, tell me—when do you want to use those three chances?

His tone was playful.

Move my body in my place?

I suddenly remembered the fight with the Great Demon Jeo Ungwon.

Back then, Mukrang had moved my body and effortlessly handled Jeo Ungwon, whom I couldn’t have beaten at my level.

Come to think of it, the reason I could learn the Fifteen Seconds of the Thirteen Swords of Seonwoo and rapidly improve afterward was because Mukrang demonstrated it through my body.

So now, Mukrang was asking if I wanted to entrust my body to him again, just like then, when I was on the brink of death against Am Hyehyang.

Then I heard the answer.

• You understand perfectly.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

So he was trying to help me fight Am Hyehyang under the pretense of teaching me.

I couldn’t refuse.

If anything, I’d have to beg him.

I playfully replied.

“I want to learn right now. I’m too curious about the Mukrang Sword Style and Mukrang Mind Technique to wait any longer.”

He burst out laughing.

• Ha ha ha ha! You know, I really like you. I wish we could have met while I was still alive.

And then, suddenly, time snapped back to normal speed.

The sudden return startled me.

The three iron spheres Am Hyehyang had fired were once again moments from piercing my back as time resumed.

Even Mukrang couldn’t help me in this situation, I thought.

Even if his spirit was truly the Sword God’s, my body wasn’t yet at the transcendent level.

Even if I used my protective energy, it would be hard to block—and I couldn’t even use it now.

But the next moment, I realized how pointless my worry had been.

Whirl!

My body spun rapidly like a top.

As I spun, two of the iron spheres slid off my back, and the last one was pushed aside.

I had used my back like a hand to swat the spheres away.

In that magical moment, I muttered in disbelief.

“…Gobeop?”

It was Gobeop.

A striking technique that uses the back as a point of impact.

The Seonwoo family’s Gale Eighteen Strikes included back techniques, so it wasn’t unfamiliar.

But I’d never seen or heard of such a delicate use of the back in striking arts.

Then Mukrang’s voice came.

• It’s called Jeonryunbak. It was the martial art of Go Gwang, the Fighting Demon who was once the world’s greatest.

But the important thing isn’t which martial art you use.

It’s about not limiting your thinking.

At the same time, I used my full-speed charge to launch myself at Am Hyehyang.

Bang!

The distance between me and Am Hyehyang was closing rapidly.

I swallowed hard.

I was uneasy.

Even if he was the Sword God’s spirit, this was still my body.

Facing Am Hyehyang, one of the Thirty-Six Heavenly Stars, head-on felt reckless.

I’d already been crushed ridiculously before.

Then Mukrang spoke as we closed the gap.

• When you feel fear toward your opponent, don’t overestimate them—see them as they are.

There are three reasons why we need to close the distance quickly.

His words surprised me.

Three reasons why I had to close the distance with Am Hyehyang?

I couldn’t understand.

Then he explained.

• First, his weapon is a long-range gujeolpyeon, and ours is a sword.

“…Ah?!”

I couldn’t help but let out a silent, incredulous gasp.

It was basic knowledge that to fight a long-range gujeolpyeon with a short-range sword, you had to get inside their reach.

Forgetting that basic was because of Am Hyehyang’s overwhelming presence.

Blinded by fear of being hit if I got close, I’d forgotten the fundamentals.

A wave of shame washed over me.

“No matter how scary he is, if I’ve decided to fight, I should have tried to get inside his range.”

Mukrang chuckled lightly.

• You must think freely but never forget the basics.

The reason many martial artists lose easily to stronger opponents isn’t because the opponent is too strong, but because they break down first, overwhelmed by their own fear.

I understood that deeply.

I’d seen many amateurs crumble before masters—not because they lacked skill, but because they responded either too passively or recklessly.

Mukrang’s voice turned satisfied as he explained the second reason.

• Second, he’s currently careless.

If he had thrown his iron rings again, it would have been threatening.

But he’s letting you close the distance so easily.

He must be underestimating you, a swordsman with a short-range weapon.

That was also true.

When I shifted direction, Am Hyehyang stopped attacking and just let me close in.

It was clear that I had let my guard down, convinced that nothing I did would make a difference.

• Thirdly, I simply can’t keep moving your body for that long. From now on… you’ve got about twenty counts left. So, in truth, it was our side—not yours—that needed to end this quickly.

“Wha—?!”

The other two reasons had surprised me, but none as much as the third.

Only twenty counts left? How was I supposed to capture Amhyeolhyang—the top-ranked among the Thirty-Six Stars of the World—in such a short time?

Then it happened.

At last, my new form entered within his striking range.

As if waiting for this moment, the segmented blade curved through the air, aimed straight at me.

Shhhhk!

A deadly thrust, moving in a circle like a living centipede attacking at incredible speed.

“Danger…!”

I shouted in surprise, but my body had already slipped away smoothly, evading the strike.

Shhhhk!

Another thrust came immediately after, changing direction, but I dodged that one too.

My body spun like petals scattered by a strong wind, flowing around his attacks effortlessly.

Mukrang spoke.

• If it were someone else, I might have taught you a new technique, but you don’t need it. Cheonpung Sinbeop is already an excellent method.

Even as he spoke, my new form was dodging the surrounding segmented blade attacks, the downward strikes that seemed ready to cleave me in two, and the rapid successive thrusts—all with ease.

• Don’t force yourself to move relying solely on your senses. The goal of Cheonpung Sinbeop is to become like air. Does air move with intention? Flow with it. Then no attack will ever reach you.

“Ahhh!”

I couldn’t help but exclaim.

He was right.

By not trying to move on my own, I was able to let all of Amhyeolhyang’s attacks pass through me.

It was intoxicating.

Even though I wasn’t using the Wolhwan Sword Dance, I felt as if I were in a trance.

Then, Amhyeolhyang’s eyes, which had looked somewhat surprised, gradually grew serious.

He must have sensed something was off.

Fwahhh!

Suddenly, the segmented blade’s head split into nine.

Occupying nine directions around me, it stabbed forward like rays of light.

Nine rapid thrusts came at me from all sides, as if trying to turn me into a beehive.

Shhhhk!

But none of those strikes touched me.

The moment the blades tried to pierce me, my new form scattered like petals in the wind.

It was Mukrang’s Cheonpung Hwayeop technique unfolding through my body.

Yet, his Cheonpung Hwayeop was less flashy than mine.

While I had created dozens of afterimages, he made only about ten—far fewer.

Those ten afterimages flowed like petals, moving around him.

Mukrang said,

• When facing someone stronger, quality matters more than quantity.

I understood immediately.

Because with fewer, clearer afterimages, even Amhyeolhyang couldn’t find my true form at a glance.

Still, as one of the Thirty-Six Stars, he showed no sign of panic.

Fwahhh!

His segmented blade suddenly condensed, swirling inward like a vortex.

‘This…?!’

I recognized the technique from before.

The one that tore through my Gongjeukshisa like a dragon’s claw.

He was probably trying to obliterate both my afterimages and true form with it.

“Careful…!”

I was about to warn Mukrang when his segmented blade suddenly exploded outward.

Fwahhhhh!

Once again, a massive dragon claw appeared before me.

It swung with ferocious talons that seemed capable of tearing everything apart.

But Mukrang’s response surpassed all my expectations.

“What?!”

I gasped in shock.

It wasn’t just my body that dodged the attack.

Both my true form and afterimages, guided by the secret of Cheonpung Sinbeop, flowed around that savage strike.

The afterimages moved as if alive—I was at a loss for words.

“W-What is this?!”

Mukrang’s cheerful voice broke the silence.

• Didn’t I tell you to think freely? You’ve already mastered Gongjeukshisa. If it worked with the sword, why wouldn’t it work with the body?

Ding!

It felt like a sharp blow to my head.

He was right.

My Gongjeukshisa was a technique that replaced the phantom sword with a real one to attack the opponent. If it was possible with the sword, it could certainly be done with the body.

Then Mukrang’s cheerful voice came again.

• Now, about half the time remains. I wish I could show you more, but this will have to do for now.

His words snapped me back to reality.

I realized I’d been so shocked that I’d lost track of time.

He had said only about twenty counts remained.

As I regained my focus, Mukrang said,

• Concentrate.

At the same moment, sword energy began to gather on Mukrang’s blade.

Not the usual pale violet, but a deep, dark indigo.

Fwahhh!

• Asurapa Cheonmu is a sword style made of a single technique. The conqueror’s sword that rules the world needs no second move. But my Mukrang Sword Style has three techniques. Whether the opponent is strong or weak, I wanted to include the courtesy of matching their level, even if it means breaking them with a single strike.

Then the segmented blade’s head split into nine again.

But this time, instead of stabbing straight, it coiled around me like the nine heads of a mythical dragon.

Once it covered all directions, it seemed ready to close in.

As I watched the shadow of the segmented blade darkening the sky with tense eyes, Mukrang’s calm voice came.

• One second, Gaechun.

The moment he finished speaking, the sky suddenly opened.

The sky, which had been completely blocked by the surrounding segmented blades, split apart as if torn by some force.

And I couldn’t help but shudder when I realized that force was the sword in my hand.

I glanced at Amhyeolhyang.

For the first time, his face showed genuine shock as he stumbled backward in confusion.

He clearly had no idea what had just happened.

Then Mukrang’s voice came again.

• Two seconds, Bisang.

My sword surged forward.

Around it, enormous indigo wings unfurled.

Amhyeolhyang tried desperately to block them with his segmented blades, his face full of terror.

But it was useless.

As the indigo wings fully spread, his blades couldn’t withstand the force and shattered.

Crack! Crack!

The segmented blade broke into three pieces, scattering helplessly.

Amhyeolhyang now fled in panic.

At that moment, Mukrang announced the name of the third and final technique.

• Three seconds, Myeolcheon.

The fully unfurled indigo wings suddenly unleashed a storm of wind and lightning.

It was a furious bombardment that seemed capable of destroying the very heavens.

Kaboom! Kaboom! Kaboom!

An instant that felt like both a flash and eternity passed, and finally, the third technique ended.

But even after my feet touched the ground again, I couldn’t speak.

The earth beneath me was utterly devastated.

And so was Amhyeolhyang.

His segmented blade, his clothes, even his body—all reduced to dust, scattered somewhere in the ruined land.

It was overwhelmingly powerful.

I couldn’t understand where the “courtesy” Mukrang spoke of had gone.

At that moment, Mukrang’s cheerful voice rang out.

• Time’s up. How was it? Did you learn well?

I realized my body was moving again under my own will.

But still, I couldn’t answer.

I couldn’t say a word.

I just stared blankly at the scorched earth—and the remnants of Amhyeolhyang that had become part of it.