It was a sudden event.

Elder Jong-in of the Huashan Sect suddenly stood up from his seat, as if he had seen something astonishing, and before anyone could stop him, he rushed onto the martial arts platform.

"Elder!"

Unjak, startled and unsure of what to do, could only watch Jong-in.

A lone martial artist stood on the platform, their face tightly wrapped in a bamboo hat and mask, which seemed to have caught Jong-in's attention.

'Who on earth could that be...?'

It was unimaginable for the usually composed Elder Jong-in to suddenly jump up like this.

Unjak held his breath and watched the scene unfold.

Jong-in reached out toward the masked martial artist's face, and then—BOOM! A sudden explosion.

At the same time, another martial artist, moving so fast that they were almost impossible to track, grabbed Jong-in's wrist.

"No way, that person is...!"

He recognized them.

The figure who had used qinggong on the roof, the one who had intervened in the tavern fight.

Unjak could vividly recall the martial artist’s face, hidden under the bamboo hat and mask.

'They were definitely with that person...'

But that thought was fleeting.

Suddenly, the entire area grew heavy, the air thick with oppressive tension.

Unjak, having experienced the world of martial arts, immediately realized what it was.

Killing intent.

An overwhelming killing intent that filled the entire space was pouring out from that spot.

The martial artists were managing better, but the civilians were showing signs of distress, their breathing becoming labored.

"Hey! We need to get the civilians out of here!"

"You damn bitch."

Unjak couldn’t believe what he just heard.

"Move your hand."

He couldn’t believe his eyes either.

A plum blossom bloomed there.

A plum blossom, withered and gray, swayed in the air with a melancholic hue.

•  

Plum blossoms scattered.

Seo-jun covered the plum blossom with his left hand.

The petals fluttered, caught in the wind stirred by his hand.

Creak-!

His clenched fist groaned under the pressure. All of his internal energy gathered into his right fist.

The wild, surging energy burst forth, sending an endless stream of petals from his right hand.

Twisting his waist, pivoting on his front foot.

With all his might, he threw a punch, the trajectory of which scattered the plum blossoms far and wide.

BOOOOM────────!!!

Jong-in, who had blocked the punch, waved his hand in alarm.

He had reacted instinctively to the sudden approach, but he hadn’t intended to harm the other person.

His wrist had been grabbed, and his instincts had caused him to unleash an attack.

"Wait...! There's a misunderstanding...!"

But there was no response.

The eyes, glowing fiercely, glared at him as if ready to kill.

"Hey...! Snap out of it!"

The woman wearing the mask shouted. Jong-in quickly moved to stand in front of her, just in case.

That was the mistake.

Seo-jun, his eyes wild, drew his sword.

CHANG-!

The sound of the unsheathing sent shivers down Jong-in’s spine.

He felt a terrifying, shapeless killing intent.

'Should I subdue him first?'

This was all due to his own mistake.

Jong-in also drew his sword.

Sreung-

That sound seemed to signal something, as Seo-jun charged forward.

The energy gathered on the blade roared ferociously. Before he knew it, the sword aura turned blue, and the surroundings froze.

With that charging momentum, Seo-jun swung his sword.

CLANG-!

Jong-in raised his sword to block.

Their eyes met. Golden pupils. Jong-in felt a twinge of nervousness as he deflected the sword.

Whoosh-!

At the same time, plum blossoms bloomed from Seo-jun's sword.

This time, the blossoms were dyed blue.

Snow Plum (설매, Seolmae)

The blossoms, like a snowstorm, swirled and flew toward Jong-in.

"How...!"

There was no time to collect his thoughts. One strange thing after another kept happening, and Jong-in had to tap into a deeper reserve of power.

Huff-!

Internal energy surged from his body. The pressure pushed the plum blossoms away.

But even so, the edge of Jong-in’s protective energy was freezing over.

Crack-

At the same time, Seo-jun twisted his body. The force pushing him back reversed, and he advanced again.

Before anyone realized, the color of his sword energy had changed. Golden, no, now burning red.

In that brief moment, his internal energy gathered entirely into his sword.

Flame Plum (염매, Yeonmae)

The blossoms, now like embers, rose and attacked Jong-in.

But Jong-in didn’t just stand there. Having regained his composure, he raised his sword.

Ssssh────────

The fragrance of plum blossoms spread.

It was one of Huashan's martial arts techniques, designed to confuse the opponent.

But there was something he had overlooked—Seo-jun's talent.

Ultimately, the fragrance was just energy. As Seo-jun inhaled deeply, the plum blossom fragrance began to emanate from his body in return.

"Astonishing..."

Jong-in sighed, finally swinging his sword.

The embers, approaching like a wave, were swept away by Jong-in's blade.

'This is no ordinary opponent.'

If he wanted to subdue Seo-jun, he would have to injure him.

With a firm decision, Jong-in's sword began to shimmer with starlight.

Whoosh──────!!

The sword, imbued with starlight, shone brightly. It was the power of strong qi.

Jong-in took a step forward and swung his sword powerfully.

CRAAAAASH────────!!

Everything shattered.

Seo-jun's plum blossoms, his sword, and his protective energy, all crumbled, blood spurting out.

“Gah…!”

Seo-jun staggered. His knees buckled, his head drooped.

But even then, he remained upright, supporting himself with his broken sword, still glaring at Jong-in.

"What...?"

Jong-in, meeting his eyes, could only let out a sigh.

Though the cut was shallow, the moment it made contact, it had wreaked havoc inside his body.

It was impossible for Seo-jun to remain conscious after that.

"You must stop! Your body won’t hold out any longer!"

But Seo-jun couldn’t hear.

In his mind, clouded and murky, a wind blew.

Power. The power to protect my sister.

Whoooosh────────!!

A blast of energy erupted, forcing Jong-in to retreat.

"What now…?"

Jong-in's eyes widened in disbelief as he looked at Seo-jun.

Behind the floating figure of Seo-jun, a faint, eerie image appeared.

Three grotesque flower buds, twisted and menacing.

"Three Blossoms Gathering at the Crown (삼화취정, Samhwachwijeong)...!?"

But this was not a properly attained state. If it continued like this, Seo-jun would self-destruct. But the speed was too fast to stop.

Crack-

The three buds slowly began to open. Hidden within them were three frantically moving eyes.

The murky energy flowing from Seo-jun’s half-closed eyes was so intense that even Jong-in hesitated to approach.

Then Seo-jun’s mouth opened.

Unintelligible words poured out from his lips.

“─────────…….”

Just hearing them made Jong-in feel nauseous.

Strange things began to happen.

The wound on Seo-jun’s chest writhed and quickly healed.

From the grotesque flowers blooming behind him, a foul energy spread like smoke.

Nearby plants twisted grotesquely, turning purple, sprouting eyes and teeth.

The stone of the martial arts platform dried up and crumbled. Civilians, unable to escape, clutched their heads and screamed in horror.

It was as if the underworld had manifested before them. Jong-in gritted his teeth.

What could be done in this situation? Even someone of his caliber couldn’t easily venture into that chaotic energy.

At that moment, someone jumped in.

"Oppa…!"

"No, stop!"

Jong-in, startled, reached out. But his hesitation made him too late. His outstretched hand grasped nothing but air.

"Come back! It’s too dangerous! In his current state, he wouldn’t even recognize his own parents!"

To Jong-in, Seo-jun looked like a ticking time bomb.

To reach the peak of power, one must balance the essence of mind, body, and spirit, but Seo-jun’s state was as if all three were clumped together and violently divided into three parts.

Not even demons would attempt such madness. Even if one achieved power this way, they would die within days from the imbalance of their energy.

It was amazing that it was even possible, but it didn’t change the fact that there was no future for someone attempting this.

"Oppa…! Wake up! Stop this madness and come back!"

Chun-bong’s voice was hoarse from shouting.

That bastard. Even during the fight, she’d called out to him several times, but he hadn’t responded.

Her body creaked and groaned under the strange energy, but she didn’t stop.

"You bastard…!"

Chun-bong threw herself forward. She instinctively understood.

If Seo-jun transcended his limits here, he would surely die.

She couldn’t bear to lose another precious person.

As if sensing her resolve, the ominous energy no longer blocked her.

Instead, it seemed to guide her toward Seo-jun, as if pushing her along.

"Oppa… please…."

Finally, her hand reached him. But there was no response.

She moved her heavy hand and grasped his.

Poof—

His rough hand came to rest on her cheek.

"Wake up… you idiot…."

Tears welled up and rolled down her face, falling onto Seo-jun's hand.

Twitch—his hand stiffened.

"…What?"

"What…? What did you say!?"

Seo-jun’s voice. Chun-bong, her heart pounding, lifted her head eagerly.

"…To understand the Dao by morning, and die content by evening…"

"What? What do you need?"

"If I could pinch your cheek in the morning… I could die happy by night…"

"You’re not going to die, you bastard…!"

Chun-bong yelled, her voice cracking with anger. Then, a soft laugh escaped from Seo-jun’s lips.

Thud—

Seo-jun’s body collapsed backward.

The eerie energy and grotesque flowers disappeared without a trace.

Jong-in, witnessing this, couldn’t help but express his admiration.

Even in that state, Seo-jun had recognized his sister. It was an unbelievable feat.

"Oppa!? Oppa…!"

Chun-bong was in no state to think about it. She frantically shook Seo-jun’s body, her panic rising, but Jong-in gently stopped her.

"He’s just asleep. If you shake him too much, his internal injuries might worsen. Calm down first."

"Ugh…!"

Startled, Chun-bong pulled her hands away from Seo-jun and stood guard in front of him, baring her teeth.

"Just so you know, he only did all this to protect me. The plum blossoms…."

"I understand. Truly, I’m sorry. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, and my misjudgment led to this. I give you my word that no one will speak of this incident."

Jong-in bowed his head.

For an elder of one of the orthodox sects to bow—it was not a gesture to be taken lightly.

Chun-bong, wide-eyed, opened her mouth to speak, but then shut it and shook her head.

"Well… if that’s the case…."

"In this situation, it would be impolite to ask your identity. There must be a reason you’re concealing yourself. But please know this—if you ever change your mind, you are always welcome to visit our sect. I’ll be waiting."

"……."

When Chun-bong remained silent, Jong-in smiled weakly and called out to his disciples.

"Take care of the area! You, move the injured! And you, check if there are any civilians in need of assistance!"

"Yes, sir!"

Some of the disciples approached to move Seo-jun, but Chun-bong narrowed her eyes and didn’t step aside from in front of him.

"I’ll take him."

"But…"

The disciples looked to Jong-in, who nodded.

"Let her do it."

"Elder Jong-in."

"Yes, what is it?"

"I want to make this very clear."

Chun-bong bit her lip before speaking again.

"The plum blossoms he created have no connection to Huashan."

"Ah, that."

Jong-in laughed softly.

"I know. The essence of those blossoms is fundamentally different from the ones of our Huashan Sect. While there may be some resemblance, not all plum blossoms belong to Huashan."

Huashan's plum blossoms are free and ever-changing, but their roots and branches remain firmly grounded.

But this young man’s plum blossoms were different.

They were like a plum tree that uprooted itself and walked.

It was a strange thing, but because of that, Jong-in was sure of one thing.

If anyone dared claim it was the same martial art, all of the martial world would point fingers at Huashan in accusation.

"Hmm, wait."

Jong-in’s expression suddenly shifted.

"Now that I think about it, didn’t you pick it up right away after seeing the plum blossom fragrance?"

"That was…!"

"Haha, I’m just teasing. No one can perfectly copy the Plum Blossom Sword Technique just by seeing it once. Anyway, you should hurry. Your friend's condition doesn’t look good."

"Oh…!"

Chun-bong, who had been glaring at Jong-in for making light of the situation, quickly scooped Seo-jun into her arms.

Watching her, Jong-in spoke again.

"After his treatment, I’ll come to see him. This was our mistake, so we will compensate. And it seems your friend needs to learn more about himself."

"Yes, then…."

Chun-bong quickly disappeared, Huashan’s disciples following behind her.

Jong-in, stroking his beard, watched their retreating figures with a peculiar expression.

"Shingeom Geumga…"

He had known the moment he sensed the aura of the young woman. And seeing the young man’s sword confirmed it.

Even in a frenzied state, Seo-jun had done his best not to rely on the Hwangun Divine Sword. But with the way his sword was built upon the foundation of the Hwangun Divine Sword, it was impossible not to recognize it.

'Could this be the work of the Sword God?'

Such a vibrant, varied display of plum blossoms. The head of the sect would have fainted from shock if they had seen it.

'But was there ever a disciple left in the Geumga?'

As Jong-in pondered, someone approached him.

"Elder."

"Ah, you are…"

"The daughter of the Namgung family greets you."

"There's no need for such formality. What brings you here? Things are complicated, so unless it’s urgent, I’d rather postpone it."

At his words, Namgung Sua nodded her head.

"I have a connection with those people. I came to lend a hand if I can."