The aura emanating from his opponent’s massive sword was unlike anything Tang Mujin had ever faced before.
It was a forceful, crushing energy, as if the blade was meant to pulverize rather than slice.
The only attack that came close was the final strike from Master Zhang before his death. Back then, Tang Mujin would have surely perished under such an assault.
But now, he was no longer the same man who had wandered aimlessly through the middle realm.
“Hup!”
Tang Mujin steadied his stance, lowering his body and drawing his sword to meet the incoming blow.
His feet skidded across the soft earth, leaving two long trails behind. The disparity in strength was undeniable.
All he could do was hold his ground. Before he could regain his balance, another attack came his way.
Each strike was a grand display of skill, yet the seamless flow between them left few openings.
‘I can’t win by just defending.’
Tang Mujin decided to take a bold step forward, trying to create an opening in his opponent’s defense.
The man retreated, parrying Tang Mujin’s sword with an unexpected, unstable defensive move. Yet, even in that attack, there was undeniable power.
‘So much inner strength. Quick yet smooth transitions. Every move naturally follows through with energy. He’s definitely a master.’
The difference in their inner strength made Tang Mujin’s insides churn. He forced a calm expression and spoke.
“Shouldn’t we at least introduce ourselves? I’m Tang Mujin. What’s your name?”
The man replied curtly.
“Yuk Woon.”
“And your nickname?”
“You don’t need to know that.”
“Not very generous, are you?”
The conversation was brief, but it helped Tang Mujin calm the storm within him.
He raised his sword again, thinking, ‘It’s not hopeless.’
Yuk Woon’s attacks were powerful, but not so fast that they couldn’t be countered, nor were they unpredictable.
He was just a bit faster, a bit stronger, and wielded a slightly sharper weapon than Hong Geolge.
‘On second thought, maybe those aren’t such small differences…’
Tang Mujin refocused, recalling the teachings of his master.
He thought he hadn’t learned much, but looking back, he realized he had absorbed quite a bit.
When facing a master, don’t take their attacks head-on. Dodge if you can, deflect if you can’t.
If you decide to deflect, do so before the attack reaches its peak.
Always be ready to retreat or advance, keeping your knees bent and your stance low.
You can’t gauge the power of an attack just by looking. Keep your shoulders relaxed.
And finally, the lesson his master repeated over and over:
‘It doesn’t matter if they’re a first-rate or second-rate fighter. The one who pierces the heart wins.’
In other words, you haven’t lost until your heart is pierced.
Muttering his master’s teachings, Tang Mujin focused all his senses on his eyes and ears.
With each swing of Yuk Woon’s sword, faint cuts appeared on Tang Mujin’s limbs and waist.
But he didn’t panic. He concentrated all his efforts on deflecting and dodging Yuk Woon’s attacks.
‘The key is not to lose sight of his techniques and sword path. One slip, and I could lose a limb.’
Tang Mujin imagined himself on the edge of a cliff, where one misstep would send him plummeting.
At first, he moved cautiously, but soon confidence grew. Trusting his instincts, he moved with fluidity.
As he danced around, Tang Mujin found himself entering a state of flow.
Initially, he dodged Yuk Woon’s sword by a hand’s breadth. But as time passed, the gap narrowed to a finger’s width.
Yuk Woon’s once relaxed expression hardened.
Tang Mujin’s narrow escapes weren’t because Yuk Woon’s sword was closing in on him. It was because Tang Mujin had begun to read Yuk Woon’s moves, allowing him to dodge with minimal space.
The proof was in the absence of new wounds on Tang Mujin’s skin.
As the gap between Tang Mujin and the sword narrowed, victory seemed to slip further away from Yuk Woon.
He couldn’t afford to give Tang Mujin more time. With that thought, Yuk Woon made his move.
‘I’ll end this in one strike.’
Gathering his inner strength, Yuk Woon prepared the final move of his Dansan Sword Technique, the Hundred-Control Slash.
Even if dodged by a hair’s breadth, it was a move that could crush the opponent, the most domineering technique Yuk Woon knew.
Pouring all his inner strength into his sword, Yuk Woon pulled back his shoulder.
In that motion, Tang Mujin saw the largest opening yet.
Was it a trap to lure him in? He didn’t know. But his instincts screamed that such an opportunity wouldn’t come again.
As Yuk Woon’s sword swung, Tang Mujin executed the simplest move of the Jasim Sword Technique, the Edge.
It was the first move he learned and the one he practiced the most. Just a straightforward thrust.
‘Master, can something this simple really be called a technique?’
When Tang Mujin had asked this, his master had scoffed.
‘That’s why you’re still a novice.’
At the time, Tang Mujin thought it was a joke, but now he realized it wasn’t.
In his state of flow, he grasped the subtlety within the simple move.
Beyond merely mimicking the stance and motion, he understood the essence and intent behind the technique.
The simplest move, often dismissed by outsiders, was the true gateway to mastering martial arts.
Though he had swung his sword countless times, this was the first time he truly executed the technique.
The Edge, a move that reached the target in the shortest distance without any excess.
Tang Mujin’s late-thrust sword bypassed Yuk Woon’s already swinging blade and pierced his heart.
Yuk Woon felt Tang Mujin’s technique with his body before his eyes registered it.
A faint sense of alienation in his chest. His flowing inner strength tangled, and his technique faltered.
Only then did Yuk Woon realize Tang Mujin had moved, and that his sword had pierced his heart.
Perhaps because the technique was so clean.
Yuk Woon looked at the sword in his chest and chuckled.
That was his final moment.
As Tang Mujin withdrew his sword, Yuk Woon’s body fell with a heavy thud.
From behind, his master’s voice called out.
“I left you to handle it with your own skills, and you took an unexpected path.”
Tang Mujin turned to see his master sitting atop a subdued Akhwi, unscathed.
Wiping the blood from his forehead and pressing a hand to his wound to stop the bleeding, Tang Mujin replied.
“What? Wasn’t he supposed to be a top-tier master? It felt like I won too easily.”
“Top-tier or not, that’s just a label for those who only know how to swing a weapon. His swordsmanship was top-tier, but so is my sword technique. Plus, I have poison skills on top of that. I couldn’t lose even if I wanted to.”
Akhwi’s face was blackened, with only a single wound on his chest, just like Yuk Woon. Half-killed by poison, the sword merely finished the job.
“I thought you didn’t want to fight earlier, so I assumed he was a tough opponent.”
“I didn’t want to kill someone I once saved. I treated him when he was ill.”
“So he tried to kill his savior? How ungrateful.”
His master chuckled.
“I’m no less ungrateful myself. If you knew why I’m heading to Luoyang, you’d be shocked.”
“Why are you going?”
“You don’t need to know yet.”
His master cut off the conversation. If he wasn’t going to explain, why bring it up?
Just then, Tang Mujin noticed Hong Geolge. He was crouched by a corpse, looking somewhat forlorn.
Tang Mujin approached him.
“Hey, why the long face? We won, didn’t we?”
“I didn’t win.”
“What?”
“I couldn’t win.”
Confused, Tang Mujin looked at the body in front of Hong Geolge.
The wounds weren’t from a club but seemed to be from a sword.
“I managed to dodge and hold out, but I couldn’t see a way to win. I thought I was done for, but the elder helped me.”
The body had only one wound, and it wasn’t on the chest or side, but the back.
Did he stab him from behind, beyond just a simple ambush?
Tang Mujin looked at his master with a puzzled expression, but his master remained unapologetic.
“Does it matter if you stab from the front or the back? A kill is a kill. That guy has no reason to feel wronged.”
Once again, Tang Mujin realized his master was a man who defied conventional wisdom.
“Well, I guess you’re right…”
“Anyone who worries about appearances and etiquette in a sword fight is a fool.”
As the story concluded, Dang Mujin felt Hong Geolgae’s gaze upon him.
It was a peculiar look, tinged with a faint sense of defeat.
Dang Mujin could understand how Hong Geolgae felt.
While Dang Mujin had surpassed Yuk Woon, Hong Geolgae had only survived with the help of Gwai.
Once weaker than him, Dang Mujin had now overtaken him, and no matter how much Hong Geolgae tried to ignore it, he couldn’t.
Dang Mujin chuckled softly and approached Hong Geolgae with a teasing tone, as if nothing had happened.
“What’s up? Does it bother you that I won?”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Come on, your face says it all. If it bothers you, why don’t you find some miraculous elixir? Just one dose of Black Peony, and your inner strength will skyrocket every day.”
Their exchange was brief. Hong Geolgae let out a small, incredulous laugh.
Now, when Hong Geolgae looked at Dang Mujin, there might be envy, but no sense of defeat. That was enough.
Defeat and envy are similar, yet there’s a crucial difference.
Someone who makes you feel defeated can never be a friend, but someone you envy can.
Dang Mujin helped Hong Geolgae to his feet.
“Keep your eyes open. You never know when you might stumble upon an ownerless elixir.”
“Damn, just to spite you, I’ll find something even better than Black Peony.”
Gwai interjected into their conversation.
“Speaking of elixirs, how about we visit Shaolin Temple?”
“Shaolin Temple?”
“Yes. They have the legendary Great Elixir there. We probably won’t get any, but since we’re heading to Luoyang, it would be a shame not to stop by. Besides, didn’t Namgung Hwan mention Shaolin recently?”
Dang Mujin pondered for a moment. Who was Namgung Hwan again?
It quickly came to him. Namgung Hwan, the head of the Namgung family, the one who had spoken of three swords being real in front of Namgung Jincheon, and the one who had guided Dang Mujin and Gwai to Cheonmugo.
He had mentioned something in front of Cheonmugo.
—It’s a bit of a busybody’s tale, but Shaolin might be eagerly waiting for you. If you get the chance, you should visit.
—Since I was very young, Shaolin has been searching for the most skilled person in all of Zhongyuan. They say there’s a mechanism that can’t be fixed.
A mechanism that can’t be fixed. Dang Mujin felt a spark of curiosity.
“What was the name of that mechanism…?”
“Are you talking about the Wooden Men Alley?”
“Ah, right. Wooden Men Alley. You said you don’t know what it is, right?”
“I only know the name. It hasn’t moved in hundreds of years, so no one at Shaolin has seen it in action.”
“Do you think I could fix it?”
“I’ve never seen it, so how would I know?”
The three of them continued their light-hearted banter as they walked northwest, leaving behind the three corpses.
A cool breeze blew from somewhere. Summer was coming to an end.