"Are you seriously thinking about copying that technique and expecting Huashan Sect not to come after you with swords?" Chun-bong's expression twisted into something truly indescribable.

"Why? Is that really such a big deal?" Seo-jun asked, feigning innocence.

"You can’t be serious... You do realize that's the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Art you're talking about, right? That’s not exactly something you can just imitate after watching it once."

"Obviously, I wouldn’t perfectly replicate it just from one look. I was just thinking about mimicking the concept a little."

Seo-jun believed that making plum blossoms bloom wasn’t all that difficult. What made Huashan’s Plum Blossom Sword Art truly remarkable was the intricate swordsmanship that accompanied it.

Surely, there were others in the martial world who knew how to scatter sword energy in a similar way. But just knowing how to scatter qi like that meant little without the accompanying mastery of swordplay.

There was a reason the word "sword" was part of the Plum Blossom Sword Art. If it was only about making the blossoms bloom, it would be called something like Plum Blossom Divine Skill instead.

But for Seo-jun, what he saw in that blooming plum was something else—potential to elevate his Merged Origin Divine Art to the next level.

"You're hopeless..." Chun-bong sighed deeply, shaking her head as if trying to rid herself of the thought.

“Anyway, I don’t think it’ll be a huge problem as long as your technique doesn’t look too similar. The Huashan folks are reasonable—they won’t immediately fly off the handle."

"What if it is too similar?" Seo-jun asked, a little too casually.

“Well, if it’s almost identical, your danjeon will definitely be shattered, and your four limbs might get crippled. Oh, and you’ll probably end up in confinement for life... If the elder is particularly hot-tempered, you could even lose your head right there and then.”

“Wow, that’s terrifying…” Seo-jun muttered, eyes wide.

"Relax, it’s not that likely to happen. Even vastly different martial arts techniques can sometimes have similar elements, so Huashan tends to be quite strict about distinguishing between them. At worst, you might have a one-on-one meeting with the elder to explain yourself.”

“Hmm… A private meeting with a peak-level elder doesn’t sound too appealing,” Seo-jun mused, shaking his head.

Just as Seo-jun finished considering the idea, Unjak wrapped up his demonstration and descended from the platform.

“The tournament will now officially begin!” announced another Huashan disciple, seemingly one of the officiators for the matches. Meanwhile, the elder seated at the top likely held the role of overseeing safety, ensuring that things didn’t get too out of hand. With his skills, he could prevent accidents even in battles between peak-level martial artists.

“The matchups have been drawn randomly. First up: Seventeen versus Forty-Two! Thirty-Two versus One Hundred! Five versus…”

The announcer continued reading out the names and numbers. The tournament was progressing quickly since they had to get through sixty-four matches across eight arenas in a single day.

“Seventy-Eight versus Twenty-Seven!”

Seventy-Eight—Seo-jun's number.

He sprang up from his seat, flashing a wide grin.

“I’m off. Make sure to watch closely.”

“You’ll finish too quickly for me to really enjoy watching anything,” Chun-bong snorted, waving him off.

From her perspective, her older brother was the favorite to win the entire tournament. Though martial artists had gathered from across Shanxi, no prominent figures would show up at a competition like this—it was too beneath their status.

Even disciples of the Nine Great Sects or prominent noble families wouldn’t bother with such events unless they had a specific reason to participate.

"Finish it quickly and come back," Chun-bong called out lazily as Seo-jun made his way up to the stage.

After the referee verified Seo-jun's token, his opponent also stepped onto the platform. His opponent was a woman with a lean, muscular build.

Seo-jun gave her an appraising look, which made her grin.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" she asked.

“Uh... that phrasing sounds a bit off,” Seo-jun replied, recoiling slightly at the wording.

The woman’s face flushed.

“I didn’t mean it that way!” she retorted.

“Yeah, I figured,” Seo-jun muttered, scratching his chin. His eyes wandered to the side of the platform, where he spotted Chun-bong lazily waving her hand.

“Anyway, let’s get started. I don’t go easy just because you’re a woman.”

The match began, and Hong Yu-yeon, the woman standing opposite Seo-jun, gripped her sword tightly, focusing her gaze on her opponent.

‘A sexist jerk...’ she thought, her irritation growing.

As a woman in the martial world, she had dealt with her fair share of crude comments, but this... this was just disgusting. She steadied her breath, recalling the teachings of her master as she gracefully moved forward.

‘Yu-yeon, until you reach a certain level, you will always be at a disadvantage in battles against men,’ her master had once said.

It was an unavoidable reality. Men were generally stronger than women, and physical strength played a much bigger role at lower levels of martial cultivation. But now that she had reached a certain level, it was time to leave behind the tricks she had learned to compensate for her weaknesses.

‘You’ve reached the level where you can rely on your natural flexibility and agility. Remember that advantage, and fight accordingly.’

Yes, Master.

With fluid, graceful steps, she bent her body sharply, her sword aimed directly at Seo-jun's side as she closed the distance.

‘Victory is mine.’

Her sword slashed through the air, intent on delivering a clean cut to his side.

But—

Swoosh!

Her blade cut through nothing but empty space.

“Uh… what?”

“Are you done?”

Above her, she saw Seo-jun’s face, his expression one of genuine confusion, as if he didn’t understand what she was doing. Her last memory before the match ended was the sight of his rapidly approaching foot.

Crash!

Seo-jun soared over her, dodging her slash and driving his foot into her face.

“What was she even trying to do?” Seo-jun muttered to himself, genuinely puzzled.

“Winner! Lee Seo-jun!” the referee declared.

Looking down at his fallen opponent, Seo-jun scratched his head.

‘Maybe I went a bit too hard?’

She hadn’t seemed like much of a threat, but maybe he should’ve held back a little.

Ignoring the murmurs from the crowd, Seo-jun stepped off the stage, the whispers of disapproval following him.

“How could he stomp on a woman’s face like that?”

“What a brute…”

The comments didn’t bother him in the slightest. There was something much more important at the moment.

"Chun-bong, gimme those cheeks!"

"Ack! Get off me!"

Ignoring her protests, Seo-jun gleefully squeezed Chun-bong’s cheeks from behind, finally feeling at peace.

If anyone asked, this was the cure for qi deviation.

If Seo-jun ever fell into qi deviation, a few squeezes of Chun-bong’s cheeks would be all it took to achieve enlightenment and snap him out of it.

Chuckling to himself, Seo-jun’s grin faded as Chun-bong grabbed his chin and turned his head forcibly.

"Cut it out and look over there."

"Huh? Why?"

Seo-jun followed her gaze to one of the other arenas. There, standing with her distinctive long sword, was the same woman they had encountered earlier.

“Three-Headed Witch,” he muttered under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

The woman’s face was still obscured by her wide-brimmed hat, but what caught Seo-jun’s attention wasn’t her face—it was her sword.

"Whoa…”

The sword was taller than the woman herself. She wasn’t exactly short; the sword was just unusually long.

The blade width seemed standard, but the length of both the blade and the handle far exceeded normal proportions.

“What’s that thing?”

“A big sword,” Chun-bong replied dryly.

“I know that, but what kind of sword?”

Seeing Seo-jun’s bewildered expression, Chun-bong frowned.

“I don’t know either. I’ve never seen a sword like that. It’s not even a Chamma Blade. Just a big sword, I guess.”

“What? Gold Chun-bong doesn’t know something?”

“I’m not a walking encyclopedia, idiot.”

“You’re not?”

“Shut up.”

While they bantered, the woman’s duel began.

Her opponent, a burly man wielding a massive axe, made some snide remark—probably about her chest, considering the context.

And then the match ended.

"Whoa…”

With a graceful spin, she used her long sword as leverage to dodge the axe, then delivered a precise palm strike to the man’s chin.

"Winner! So-so!"

The match ended in an instant. Seo-jun nodded in approval.

“She’s good.”

“Yeah, she’s strong,” Chun-bong agreed, her gaze sharpening.

“She seems like she’s from one of the great families. But why would someone like her enter a competition like this?”

“Who knows? Winning is winning, right?”

Seo-jun yawned, while Chun-bong sighed in exasperation.

“You’re going to regret underestimating people.”

“Underestimating?”

Seo-jun smirked.

“I never underestimate anyone when I’m fighting.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Number One Twenty-Five!”

Chun-bong’s turn had come.

She stood up, adjusting her hat to make sure it stayed in place.

“I’m off.”

“Go on. Finish it quickly.”

“I’ll try.”

Chun-bong ascended to the stage.

She had decided not to use the Azure Cloud Divine Sword in this tournament. Though Huashan could be trusted, it was better to keep certain things hidden for now.

This meant her power was somewhat restricted for this match.

‘Still, I should be fine.’

Seo-jun had begun to understand the difference between those who belonged to large sects and those who didn’t.

Watching Chun-bong and the “Three-Headed Witch” in action, Seo-jun could tell.

They were fundamentally different from most martial artists here. Even their swords carried a certain authority.

Their very essence was different from those martial artists who weren't part of the great sects or clans.

‘It’s a bit of a shame.’

That was why so many martial artists sought to join sects like the Nine Great Schools or the Six Major Clans. Without an exceptional talent from the heavens, it was nearly impossible for an ordinary martial artist to surpass them.

Of course, Seo-jun was one of those rare exceptions.

“Let’s see…”

He was about to relax and enjoy watching Chun-bong's match when something unusual happened.

“Huh?”

The elder overseeing the event suddenly widened his eyes and leaped into the arena where Chun-bong stood.

“What the hell?”

Time seemed to slow down.

The elder’s hand reached toward Chun-bong’s face.

What the hell was he doing?

Seo-jun didn’t have time to think.

A high-pitched ringing filled his ears as his vision blurred, and his body reacted instinctively.

BOOM!

He exploded forward, unleashing his full power as he rocketed toward the stage.

In the blink of an eye, Seo-jun was upon the elder. His eyes gleamed with golden energy, and his entire body pulsed with raw qi.

He reached for the elder’s wrist, ready to throw him off Chun-bong.

Just as he was about to grab him, something erupted from within the elder.

“Urgh…!”

Blood rose up Seo-jun’s throat as the elder’s internal energy struck his own.

“Goddamn it…”

Even so, Seo-jun wasn’t deterred. He immediately adapted to the elder’s technique, using the flow of the attack to accelerate his own qi.

Golden Cloud Divine Art.

His energy surged violently, and fragments of his qi began to break apart, scattering like petals in the wind.

“…Are you going to move your hand?”

A bleak, colorless plum blossom bloomed.