Chun-bong Art.

A martial technique solely for Chun-bong.

Just the thought made her heart race. But as usual, her brother’s creation of the Chun-bong Art wasn’t just an ordinary martial art.

In fact, it might not even make sense without considering that.

Seo-jun had crafted it to perfectly align with Chun-bong’s body, meridians, and mental image—every detail fit her so well that it seemed only natural such a martial art would emerge.

“Hmm…!”

Excited, Chun-bong drew her sword.

That strike her brother had demonstrated earlier—she could finally understand it.

While she had described it as flashy, her sister, Namgung Su-a, had called it solid and understated.

Both were right.

And yet, both were wrong.

Saaaak—

A light stroke cut through the wind. Seo-jun grinned as he watched.

“You’re already using it pretty well.”

“Yep!”

Chun-bong laughed gleefully and looked at Namgung Su-a.

“How was it?”

“It’s flashy. A variable sword?”

“No, technically, it’s an illusionary sword.”

“Huh… is that so?”

Chun-bong was struck with admiration. Even someone at Namgung Su-a’s level hadn’t realized it in time.

“To be precise, it appears as you want it to. What I actually performed was the Taesan Apjung strike.”

“Huh? Taesan Apjung?”

“Yeah. But now with a touch of Chun-bong Art.”

The Chun-bong Art isn’t a sword technique. If anything, it’s more of a supporting skill.

When Chun-bong’s moves are imbued with the essence of Chun-bong Art, it creates an effect similar to an illusion.

It imprints her image in her opponent’s mind, seen precisely as they want to see it.

If she mastered it, she could embed this effect into every move, reaching the true potential of shift and transformation.

It’s truly an absurd technique.

Especially considering that illusion isn’t even the primary goal of the Chun-bong Art.

Currently, Chun-bong was still learning Cheongun Art, but she hadn’t yet achieved perfect unity with it, leaving some gaps.

The main purpose of Chun-bong Art is to fill those gaps.

But it doesn’t just stop at filling them; it reaches the level of a complete martial art in its own right.

“When I swung the sword, whatever you unconsciously imagined showed up in your sight, regardless of how I actually moved the sword.”

“How… how is that even possible?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Chun-bong and Namgung Su-a stared at Seo-jun.

Seo-jun nodded, looking quite pleased.

“Even if it’s the same action, the experience changes depending on who perceives it; that’s also a matter of perspective.”

This martial art was born from enlightenment gained over a cup of coffee.

“Yeah, but how did you turn that insight into a martial art?”

At Chun-bong’s question, Seo-jun scratched his head, looking a bit unsure.

“I just infused that inspiration into the technique, tailored perfectly for you.”

“How exactly?”

“Well, since your sword style is usually flashy, I adjusted it like this and that…?”

If he hadn’t incorporated it into the Chun-bong Art and just created a technique purely based on his inspiration, it likely wouldn’t have reached this level.

It’s a martial art born out of both a vivid inspiration and the specificity of being usable only by one person—an art that happened to come together at the perfect time.

Just as a person with a blazing constitution easily masters blazing techniques, he created a martial art perfectly suited for Chun-bong.

“I can technically use it too, but I doubt I’d wield it as powerfully as you. It’s really made to fit your body.”

Chun-bong slapped her forehead.

“I just don’t get it. How can you come up with martial arts like this out of nowhere?”

“Curious?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m curious too. Why can’t others do something this easy?”

“Wow…”

Chun-bong raised her sword.

“To get the hang of it, want to spar?”

“…Are you asking to stab me in such a roundabout way?”

“Would you let me?”

After a moment of thought, Seo-jun spread his arms wide.

“If that’s what my Chun-bong wants…!”

Chun-bong charged immediately.

A dropkick? Seo-jun closed his eyes and smirked.

‘A dropkick from Chun-bong is a reward, not an attack.’

But the expected impact didn’t come.

Seo-jun opened his eyes, slightly startled.

“Huh…?”

Chun-bong was standing right in front of him, gazing at him intently.

“Brother.”

“Yeah?”

“…Thank you.”

Muah, a soft touch landed on his cheek.

“Ugh…!”

Seo-jun clutched his chest and collapsed.

“Impressive, Geum Chun-bong… an unexpected attack… go now… descend the mountain…”

“Quiet.”

With a snort, Chun-bong strolled away with light steps, her ears flushed red with embarrassment.

Her quick retreat was simply adorable.

“The best filial daughter…”

My precious Geum Chun-bong…!

Seo-jun clutched his heart, feeling a warm glow, and staggered to his feet.

“Almost ascended there…”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Namgung Su-a chuckled softly and stepped up to Seo-jun.

“How about this?”

Muah, her lips touched his other cheek.

Seo-jun was startled, grasping both cheeks.

“I… I see it…”

“See what?”

“The celestial realm…”

“Pfft, what are you talking about?”

Namgung Su-a boldly linked her arm with his, and the feel of it against his arm was indeed otherworldly.

“…So this is paradise.”

“Aha!”

Namgung Su-a laughed as she kept her arm linked with his, leading him along.

Chun-bong was likely pacing in her room, waiting for him.

They’d return to her soon, but until then, Namgung Su-a had him to herself.

As they strolled along, she hummed a quiet tune and murmured.

“It feels like a dream.”

“Now?”

“Yeah. I only vaguely imagined this.”

Walking along a peaceful night path, arm in arm with a loved one, each step slowing as they neared home, reluctant for the night to end.

Was this really a romantic relationship? The question arose, but it didn’t matter.

She was just so happy in this moment.

“I hope these days continue like this. Let’s end this war quickly so we can stay together, all three of us.”

“That sounds great.”

“Right? Then how many kids should we have?”

“Oh…”

Caught off guard, Seo-jun reacted, and Namgung Su-a laughed again.

It was endearing to see a man who seemed capable of anything get flustered by just a single comment.

It made her feel special.

But time, ever cruel, finally brought that dreamy moment to an end.

Her slow steps came to a stop, and with a hint of regret, she let go of his arm.

“…See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

“Sleep well.”

“You too.”

“Should I dream of you?”

“Let’s keep it clean, please…”

“Try to.”

Seo-jun laughed, gently pressing her cheeks with his hands.

“We’re in the same building anyway, so why are we acting like we’re saying goodbye from afar?”

“Um… just. I’ll miss you.”

Namgung Su-a lowered her gaze, her tone and gestures unusually affectionate.

Seo-jun, almost entranced, moved closer.

He placed a soft kiss on her forehead, and her body froze.

“Huh…?”

“Goodnight.”

“Y-yeah…”

Blushing red, Namgung Su-a gently patted her forehead, looking dazed.

It seemed she wasn’t used to receiving affectionate gestures in return.

Seo-jun chuckled.

“Make sure you sleep well and don’t do anything weird, alright?”

“Okay…”

“Why are you suddenly acting all shy?”

As he gently pushed her toward her room, she peeked her head out from the door.

“…Goodnight.”

And quickly vanished inside.

“Oh…”

Her reaction was refreshingly genuine.

High attack power but minimal defense…

Basically a glass cannon, wasn’t she?

Seo-jun chuckled to himself.

‘Maybe… I’m a natural at this romance thing?’

For once, he felt quite pleased with himself.

 

The next morning, Seo-jun sprang out of bed and stretched.

After dreaming a somewhat racy dream, he felt surprisingly stiff.

Beside him, Chun-bong was fast asleep, snoring lightly.

They’d tried sleeping in separate rooms for a while, but eventually, they’d given up and started sharing again.

The room Chun-bong had at the Namgung estate was now empty, as her things had gradually returned to his room.

Yawn…

Stretching, Seo-jun stepped out of the room and spotted Namgung Su-a.

He grinned and waved at her.

“Sleep well?”

“Yeah. I slept like a log; I feel so refreshed!”

Did she regain her usual demeanor overnight?

As he looked at her, he noticed a faint blush on her cheeks and a slight tremor in her fingers.

Though she seemed well-rested, her slightly flushed complexion made him wonder what she had been up to last night.

‘Hmm.’

Her attempt to act nonchalant didn’t sit well with him.

He felt… a bit irked.

Whoosh—

Moving swiftly, he positioned himself behind Namgung Su-a.

“Hm?”

She noticed him but only tilted her head in curiosity.

Seo-jun grinned as he hugged her from behind and rested his chin on her head.

“You didn’t sleep a wink, did you? What were you up to last night?”

She whispered, face flushed.

“Thinking about you…”

Seo-jun felt a shiver run through him, quickly stepping back and clearing his throat.

His hands seemed to fidget uncontrollably.

There’s a certain itchiness that comes from the atmosphere alone.

Barely maintaining his composure, Seo-jun laughed awkwardly.

“Well, uh, that’s nice.”

“Isn’t it?”

As they exchanged an awkward gaze, a voice abruptly interrupted.

“What are you two doing?”

Seo-jun turned, startled. Pae Jin-gwang was watching them closely.

“…You startled me. What’s up?”

“That’s my question. Did something happen between you two last night?”

“No, nothing happened.”

“Hmm…”

Pae Jin-gwang sighed, looking at them with narrowed eyes.

“This world is filthy. Just go ahead and conquer everything, brat. Crush the Black Lotus, reach the Heavenly Boundary, unify Murim.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s the plan. Might as well become the Heavenly Demon while I’m at it.”

“…Have you lost your mind?”

“Once I reach the Heavenly Boundary, who could stop me?”

“Hmm. Fair point. Just don’t drag my name into it.”

“I’ll spread the word that the Heavenly Demon is a disciple of the Fist King.”

“…Actually, that might not be a bad idea.”

Pae Jin-gwang clicked his tongue as he rubbed his chin.

“Anyway, someone’s here to see you.”

“Huh? A visitor? I don’t have friends.”

“It shows.”

“Do you want to get hit?”

“A spar? Gladly.”

“To the death.”

“That’s acceptable too.”

As they bickered and walked, Seo-jun glanced sideways at Namgung Su-a, catching her mischievous smile.

He scratched his cheek, feeling oddly ticklish, as he flung open the villa’s front door.

“Who’s visiting… oh?”

“Well, as expected of the Namgung Clan. Quite the villa.”

“You came in person?”

The guest, Hyun-wol, smirked.

“Well, this is a good chance to get out and about.”

With Hyun-wol here… those Blood Mist Clan bastards better start counting their days.