“Yujin Gwang!”

A few people called out softly, trying to stop him, but it was too late. The leader, who had been about to set sail westward, turned to face Yujin Gwang. Despite the seemingly trivial action, the atmosphere turned icy.

Yet Yujin Gwang approached the leader undeterred.

“Didn’t Hyun Gong just say you set the fire? Why are you trying to end things on your own terms when the flames haven’t even died down?”

The leader responded calmly to Yujin Gwang’s question.

“Because I can.”

Yujin Gwang burst into laughter, a hearty laugh that seemed out of place given the situation.

“Well, I suppose you would.”

Then, he pointed the tip of his sword at the leader.

“But I need to see for myself.”

Before anyone could stop him, Yujin Gwang raised his sword arm high. Like an archer drawing a bow, he pulled his elbow back, the hilt of his sword stopping next to his ear.

The preparatory stance of the Sa-il Sword Technique, the ultimate move of the Hoo-ye Sa-il.

“See for yourself, huh.”

The leader’s sword, which had been hanging loosely, began to shimmer with starlight again. Words and light—an enchanting white glow that captivated every martial artist.

Ssshhh—

Yujin Gwang took a slow, deep breath. Having lost sight in one eye, he couldn’t judge distance perfectly. But once he drew his sword, distance no longer mattered to him.

In the next moment, Yujin Gwang unsheathed his sword. Dang Mu-jin knew how fast Yujin Gwang’s sword was—like it skipped the middle steps and went straight to its target.

But as Yujin Gwang’s shoulder moved, the leader’s left arm evaded, and something small leapt into the air.

The onlookers couldn’t discern what it was, but those with keen eyesight quickly recognized the piece of metal. It was a fragment of Yujin Gwang’s sword blade, severed and sent flying.

‘The Hoo-ye Sa-il technique not only reacted but cut the sword in half?’

An unbelievable sight. Yujin Gwang realized his sword was now in two pieces. He stared at the broken blade and said,

“Unbelievable.”

With that, he tossed the hilt aside.

The leader asked,

“So, do I have what it takes?”

“Of course.”

Yujin Gwang had challenged bravely and accepted defeat gracefully. The leader seemed to appreciate Yujin Gwang’s reaction and no longer showed hostility towards him.

However, just as the leader was about to sheathe his sword, he noticed Jang Il-nam over Yujin Gwang’s shoulder. Then he looked at Eom So-ul.

The leader murmured softly,

“Come to think of it, there’s one more thing I need to do before I leave.”

With his sword still glowing white, the leader walked towards Jang Il-nam. Jang Il-nam drew his sword, knowing he stood no chance but unwilling to go down without a fight.

Just before the two clashed, Eom So-ul rushed forward and grabbed the leader’s sleeve.

“Why stop me?”

The leader’s body paused as Eom So-ul shook his head slightly.

“You mustn’t.”

Eom So-ul feared and resented Jang Il-nam. The memory of his severed fingers still ached whenever he saw Won So-ril.

But Eom So-ul was skilled in reading situations and understood the consequences of killing Jang Il-nam. Traveling with Dang Mu-jin’s group over the past few days, Eom So-ul had learned much about Jang Il-nam—why he was so determined to pursue him and what kind of person he used to be. He also realized how many people cared for Jang Il-nam.

Killing Jang Il-nam might satisfy a few, but it would also create countless new enemies. The situation would only worsen, not resolve. Eom So-ul didn’t want that.

Moreover, the leader wasn’t in peak condition. He was exhausted and burdened with many issues. His eyes seemed clouded, hinting at something serious.

‘Can the leader handle the orthodox martial artists in his current state?’

It seemed possible, but not certain. If the fight dragged on, the leader’s condition could deteriorate.

Even if the leader won, if he were injured or killed, it would be a grave problem. The journey from here to Mount Tian is long and arduous. Eom So-ul couldn’t fend off pursuers alone, especially not while supporting an injured leader.

Thus, Eom So-ul concluded that leaving Jang Il-nam alone was the best way to survive. It took him only a few breaths to reach this decision.

The leader extended his hand, grasping Eom So-ul’s wrist that held his sleeve. He then spoke to Jang Il-nam.

“You’re lucky.”

With that, the leader turned away with Eom So-ul, heading towards the stone ship.

This time, Yujin Gwang didn’t stop them.

Jang Il-nam watched their retreating figures with a bewildered expression.

As the fight ended, the spectators dispersed, eager to share the tale of what had transpired. The story of tonight would soon spread throughout the martial world.

Once the crowd had thinned, the core masters of the orthodox sects gathered around. In their midst lay a small piece of metal and a sword hilt.

Dang Mu-jin examined the severed sword of Yujin Gwang. Both the hilt and the blade had been cut with remarkable precision.

Dang Mu-jin couldn’t help but admire it.

”…Incredible. Even with a sword I crafted, I couldn’t cut another sword so cleanly.”

Hearing this, the expressions of the orthodox masters grew serious.

The leader’s martial prowess was undeniable. Yet, within the orthodox martial world, there were several who stood on the brink of the next realm, the Johae-kyung.

Hyun Gong, who had approached the Johae-kyung through his mastery of the Yeongbo Inmam technique. Hyun Wan, who had solidified his position as the top master of the old Sojang sect. Namgung Myung, who had gained experience by observing countless martial arts during the last Jeongmyeong War. And Jang Il-nam, whose boundless talent was undeniable. These four were certainly close to the Johae-kyung.

Looking more broadly, Mu-jin Kang, who had returned from Mount Tian with newfound insight, was also likely to reach the Johae-kyung soon. While no one could defeat the leader in a one-on-one fight, together they could muster a force capable of standing against him.

The problem wasn’t the leader’s martial arts per se, but the strange technique of embedding stars into his sword.

Except for extreme cases like ignition, martial arts typically emphasize a balance between offense and defense. But if one could cut through an opponent’s sword with precision, defense became virtually impossible. The ability to sever an opponent’s sword shook the very foundation of martial arts.

Dang Mu-jin asked,

“What should we call the technique the leader showed earlier, where the sword shone with light?”

Hwa Yeon-shin replied,

“It’s an unprecedented skill, so it has no name. But if we must name it, perhaps ‘Sword Qi Star Gang’ would be fitting, as it embodies the Big Dipper in the sword.”

Sword Qi Star Gang. A fitting name indeed. Dang Mu-jin asked Hwa Yeon-shin again,

“Do you know anything about this martial art?”

“No, I’ve never seen it in any records.”

“What could be the principle behind such a phenomenon…”

Hwa Yeon-shin didn’t answer immediately, lost in thought, as were the others. Martial arts always had principles, but what principle could explain such a marvel?

Finally, Hwa Yeon-shin spoke.

“Dang Mu-jin, you know the feeling when you cross swords with a master and your insides feel like they’re being shaken?”

“Of course. I’ve experienced it when I first learned the Jeongdang Sword.”

A few people chuckled at Dang Mu-jin’s words.

Dang Mu-jin felt a bit wronged. His swordsmanship wasn’t inferior to that of any master, but the average level of achievement among those gathered here was simply too high. His skills seemed lacking by comparison.

Hwa Yeon-shin continued,

“When you clash swords, the internal energy flows through the sword, causing that sensation.”

“I understand.”

“And now, it seems the leader has succeeded in channeling that energy outside the sword and controlling it externally.”

“Is that even possible?”

Internal energy, like blood, typically flows within the body. Hwa Yeon-shin’s explanation suggested creating a path for energy to flow outside the sword, akin to blood flowing outside the body.

“Whether it’s possible or not, there’s no other explanation.”

“But—”

As Dang Mu-jin began to argue, Hwa Yeon-shin waved him off.

“Martial artists are accustomed to the idea of internal energy flowing through a sword. It’s not much different to think it could flow outside the sword.”

A valid point, yet difficult for anyone to accept easily. Finally, Hwa Yeon-shin posed the most crucial question.

“So, what should we do now?”

If they could eliminate the leader, that would be ideal. Even if they couldn’t do it immediately, they needed to devise a plan. Peace is achieved through strength, not by relying on the goodwill of others.

Naturally, the orthodox masters began a heated debate.

The debate began, as expected, with whether they should track down the cult leader’s proxy or find a new solution before following the leader and the grand protector. However, with the martial artists of Mount Tian gathered, the conversation quickly veered towards martial arts.

Discussions about martial arts themselves ensued. They debated the skills the cult leader had demonstrated, whether it was possible to replicate the legendary technique of the Ox, and interpretations of the swordsmanship the leader had shown in his final moments.

Yet, apart from Hyun Gong, Tang Mujin and his companions couldn’t actively participate and remained on the sidelines.

Tang Mujin, walking a solitary path of poison techniques, found nothing impossible, while Hong Geolgae realized his insights wouldn’t contribute much to the discussion. Namgung Myung seemed restless, like a cat on a hot tin roof.

As they talked, the sky began to lighten gradually. The seemingly endless debate paused, and people blinked sleepily. With the cult leader gone, the tension eased, and fatigue set in.

Hwahyeon Shinni, the most senior among them, addressed the group.

“It’s too late. Let’s get some rest and continue with clear minds.”

“Understood.”

The group dispersed. Finding a place to rest wasn’t an issue for martial artists accustomed to such situations.

Just as Tang Mujin was about to settle down, Namgung Myung approached him.

“Hey, come here.”

“Why?”

“I have something to discuss.”

Namgung Myung also called over Hong Geolgae and Hyun Gong. The three of them looked at Namgung Myung with tired eyes, clearly wanting him to get to the point.

Namgung Myung opened his mouth.

“Earlier, when you saw the cult leader’s true form, what did you think?”

Hong Geolgae replied, “It was impressive. I never thought anyone could stop Yu Daehyup’s successor. Maybe if it were with a sword, but…”

“Yeah, that was impressive. But there was something even more remarkable.”

It was clear Namgung Myung wanted to talk about the legendary technique, not the cult leader’s swordsmanship or presence.

Tang Mujin spoke with a somber expression. “It was unbelievable. More than fear or awe, I felt overwhelmed. I’m actually relieved I deal with poison, not swords.”

Unlike Tang Mujin, Hong Geolgae’s expression was subtly bright.

“It wasn’t bad.”

“What do you mean by ‘not bad’?”

“In front of the master, we’re all the same, aren’t we? It levels the playing field. Those guys won’t have a reason to boast in front of me anymore.”

True to his nature, Hong Geolgae found a grand perspective. Finally, Namgung Myung turned to Hyun Gong.

“And you, Hyun Gong?”

Hyun Gong’s voice was a bit melancholic. “I don’t know. Will I find the answer if I train my whole life? I was excited about reaching the Harmony Stage, but now I feel a bit disillusioned.”

Namgung Myung nodded at Hyun Gong’s words. “I see.”

At the same time, a rather unpleasant smile appeared on Namgung Myung’s face.

Tang Mujin, Hyun Gong, and Hong Geolgae knew exactly what that meant. It was the same expression Namgung Myung wore whenever he surpassed them and flaunted his achievements.

Namgung Myung said, “Indeed, the cult leader is extraordinary, truly deserving of the title of the world’s greatest.”

”…So why are you making that face?”

Instead of answering, Namgung Myung began a story. “When I was not even ten, an elder in my family taught me how to weave bamboo into a basket.”

“What does a basket have to do with anything? Just get to the point; we’re tired.”

Namgung Myung continued, ignoring the interruption, and Tang Mujin couldn’t help but praise him sincerely.

“Are you insane, or what…?”