Elder of the Namgung Clan and the successor of the Gold Sword Clan.

The sudden news of a duel drew a crowd, and murmurs spread as they listened to the man’s introduction.

The notion that this youthful-looking man was an elder of the Namgung Clan was hard enough to believe, but calling him the successor of the Gold Sword Clan? What could that even mean?

Yet, seeing the faintly glowing golden dragon embroidered across his black martial robes left no room for doubt.

More shocking than his identity was the divine craftsmanship of his attire.

To imprint such intricate designs on simple fabric and make them radiate was nothing short of a miracle.

“I am Ju Cheol-yak, Imperial Great General of the Celestial Flame,” declared the middle-aged man standing opposite him.

The crowd buzzed with astonishment.

Even among them, the imperial rank of Great General carried an intimidating weight.

The Abbot of Shaolin then appeared, walking gracefully through the air, his presence commanding attention.

“I am Deok-seong, Abbot of Shaolin.”

The Abbot? The Abbot of Shaolin himself?

Ordinarily, such an esteemed figure rarely made public appearances. Even presiding over the Yongbong Gathering had been entrusted to one of Shaolin's elders.

Why had the Abbot stepped forward now?

The spectators struggled to comprehend the gravity of the situation.

“The duel originally scheduled for today will be delayed until tomorrow,” the Abbot announced, his calm voice resonating through the arena. “I advise all juniors here to observe the battle with utmost focus. It is unlikely you will witness such an extraordinary duel again in your lifetime.”

His words ignited a spark in the eyes of all the young martial artists present.

Among them, Chun-bong, Namgung Su-a, and Namgung Myung silently focused their attention on the impending battle.

“Proceed when ready,” the Abbot concluded, hovering above the arena as he gazed down indifferently.

This seeming lack of interest was understandable. For warriors of this caliber, a formal signal to begin held no significance.

Neither Seo-jun nor Ju Cheol-yak had any objections.

Shing! Both drew their swords, locking gazes.

Ju Cheol-yak moved first.

Boom!

His deliberate step left an imprint on the ground, and as he silently raised his sword, he brought it down with crushing force.

The distance between them vanished in an instant, and a blazing sword aura, radiant as the sun, bore down on the arena.

BOOOOOOM!!!

An explosion of heat consumed the space.

“Argh…!” “W-we’re going to die…!”

Terrified screams erupted from the crowd. The Abbot, unperturbed, gently pressed his right hand toward the air.

Woom~

Buddhist energy descended, extinguishing the flames that had spread beyond the arena.

The crowd sighed in relief, but the Abbot’s eyes remained fixed on the duel.

Boom!

Ju Cheol-yak’s relentless assault continued.

His strikes brimmed with overwhelming, tyrannical energy that left no room for reprieve.

“A mere brat like you dares to flap his tongue…!” he roared, each stroke of his blade igniting flames in its wake. Seo-jun deftly parried, his sword flashing in response.

Clang!

Seo-jun countered, leaping into the air as his sword lunged forward.

Ju Cheol-yak sneered. Pathetic.

Clang! With a twist of his wrist, he swatted Seo-jun’s blade aside, following up with a wide, sweeping slash.

Whoosh!

Blazing flames carved a horizontal arc. Seo-jun met it with another strike.

Clang!

The trajectory of Ju Cheol-yak’s sword faltered slightly. It wasn’t enough.

Once more.

Clang!

In mere moments, Seo-jun deflected twice, finally pushing Ju Cheol-yak’s sword off course.

Yet Ju Cheol-yak grinned.

The flow of the battle was his, and he had never relinquished it since the start.

Spectators watching from the sidelines thought the same.

“As expected, it seems too soon for him to face the Great General.” “It’s a pity to see such promise snuffed out.”

Kneeling and apologizing before the masses—a humiliation that could scar the pride of a peak martial artist.

Confidence in oneself was crucial to climbing higher. If today's defeat became a seed of doubt, would Seo-jun crumble under its weight? Some worried.

But Pae Jin-gwang furrowed his brows.

“What’s he doing?” he muttered.

Ju Cheol-yak’s skill was undeniable, but Seo-jun being cornered like this? It didn’t add up.

Normally, Seo-jun was the kind to strike first, even if it meant risking his life. Yet now, he wasn’t even trying to counterattack.

He’s always been hard to read, Jin-gwang thought, though there was a way to gauge his intent.

Chun-bong.

The kid Seo-jun called Chun-bong often revealed hints through her reactions.

Focusing his keen eyesight, Jin-gwang observed Chun-bong among the crowd.

Sure enough.

“She knows something,” Jin-gwang realized.

Her expression, half worried, half exasperated, told him everything.

True to Jin-gwang’s guess, Chun-bong understood Seo-jun’s intentions.

That look on his face…

To most, he appeared serious. But Chun-bong knew better.

That sly bastard’s about to pull something outrageous.

“Stop running around like a rat!” Ju Cheol-yak roared, stomping the ground as he lunged forward, shoulder-first. His armor-clad frame was a weapon in itself.

Seo-jun retreated as Ju Cheol-yak twisted his body.

With a grounded stance, he channeled power from his feet through his waist and arms, culminating in a devastating sword strike.

The Celestial Flame Supreme Art surged to its peak, surrounding Ju Cheol-yak’s entire body with an intense, solar brilliance.

RUMBLEEEEE!!!

The strike carried unfathomable power, enough to destroy anything in its path.

Some warriors could perceive the spectacle. They despaired.

“Such power…!”

Taking the blow directly would mean certain death.

Then, something unexpected happened.

Whoosh!

Seo-jun lightly swung his sword, sending Ju Cheol-yak’s blade off course. Simultaneously, the blazing sun conjured by the Celestial Flame Supreme Art dimmed and extinguished.

“……!”

Ju Cheol-yak’s eyes widened as Seo-jun smirked.

“So, the imperial techniques aren’t all that impressive.”

A golden radiance burned atop Seo-jun’s sword.

“Silence!” Ju Cheol-yak snarled, recovering quickly as he spun and thrust his blade once more. A sun erupted at the tip of his sword—a strike impossible to evade or block.

Ju Cheol-yak calculated his next move, but it was pointless.

Sssst~

The sun flickered out as Seo-jun’s sword coiled around his, neutralizing its power.

Screech! Sparks flew as their swords clashed, and Ju Cheol-yak’s arm was flung upward, his attack thoroughly dismantled.

“Is that…?” An elder from Wudang leaped to his feet.

“A counter technique…! A counter to the Celestial Flame Supreme Art?!”

Not just a deflection. Seo-jun had unraveled the technique at its core.

To counter a martial art was the ultimate fear of any sect. Yet, most sects didn’t invest much effort in preventing it because crafting a counter was nearly impossible.

“You bastard…!” Ju Cheol-yak gritted his teeth, realizing his technique had been completely broken.

He unleashed the full extent of his power, swinging his sword downward in a fiery arc.

“You wouldn’t understand even if I explained,” Seo-jun replied casually.

Golden light enveloped Seo-jun’s blade as he unleashed Hwangryong Pacheon.

The golden dragon devoured the sun whole, shattering Ju Cheol-yak’s sword in the process.

“How…?” Ju Cheol-yak gasped.

Seo-jun grabbed Ju Cheol-yak by the hair.

“Pitiful.”

Boom!

Ju Cheol-yak’s body slammed into the ground, trembling.

Seo-jun pressed his foot down on his head, a cold smile curling his lips.

“Goodbye.”