Shing.

The object Derrick had handed him was a masterwork sword, shaped like a gladius.

Where it had come from, Ihan couldn’t say, but it was undoubtedly forged by a legendary smith. The instant he gripped it in his hand—

Hum.

“What did he just give me?”

The sword resonated.

This phenomenon, known as “sword resonance,” could only occur with weapons imbued with spiritual energy by a true master. Such masterwork blades were treasures, rarely found outside the royal vaults of kingdoms.

And now, one of those treasures rested in his hand.

“….”

Unmoved by excitement, Ihan instead took a moment to familiarize himself with the blade. He swung it lightly in the air, testing its balance.

Whoosh. Whoosh!

Each swing grew faster, accelerating until—

Swoosh!

The blade’s motion left only afterimages behind, its edge blurring into faint streaks of light.

Whooosh…!!

Dust scattered from around him as Ihan achieved a seamless connection with the sword.

Watching this display, Maximus commented:
“Impressive. Did you suppress the sword’s resonance?”
“Letting a weapon wail on its own is a disgrace. It’s not my will if it cries out like that.”
“Exactly! No one should ever be controlled by their weapon, no matter how great it may be! There are so many fools in the North and Central regions who fail to grasp that, but you understand, Lee Hyan!”
“It’s Ihan. Whatever. I’m using this blade now, so if you’ve got a problem, speak up. I can fight barehanded if you prefer.”
“Haha, of course not! If anything, this makes it more interesting. And besides—”

Thud.

“It’s only fair I use a blade as well.”

Maximus raised his right arm and stretched his hand outward, as if awaiting something.

“….”
“…?”
“Ah, hold on a moment. It seems to be wandering off somewhere.”
“…Whatever it is, hurry up. This tunnel’s collapsing.”
“Just a minute—no, two minutes. Ah, here it comes!”

After this absurd comedy, Ihan finally understood what Maximus had been waiting for.

Whoosh!

A crescent-shaped polearm, known both as a halberd and a battleaxe, flew through the air and landed in Maximus’s grasp.

Thud.

It was no ordinary battleaxe.
It was significantly larger and longer, with a spear-like tip that made it versatile for thrusting as well.
Its radiant material glimmered under the light, revealing it to be just as much a masterpiece as Ihan’s sword.

Hum!

The resonance of the weapon was unlike anything Ihan had ever seen.

“What’s this? Do Northern weapons fly through the air now?”
“It’s a form of sorcery. They say it links the weapon to its owner’s body.”
“That’s a tempting feature.”

Automatic retrieval?
Ihan thought to himself how convenient that must be.

However—

“What a shame. That convenient weapon is about to get smashed today.”
“Let’s see about that.”

The two titans now wielded weapons.

It was akin to arming wild beasts with firearms—except these beasts were also sharpshooting experts.

And as anyone would agree, the moment an animal smarter than a human gets hold of a gun—

Crack! Crackle!

It stops being a mere creature and becomes a force of destruction.

++++

 

The sword and the halberd clashed.

By logic, the sword should have broken under the weight of the halberd. Yet, defying all expectations, the sword withstood the immense force effortlessly.
Similarly, the halberd, far too heavy to swing swiftly, moved faster and lighter than even a bamboo staff.

A spectacle of impossible strength and skill.

Boom! BOOM!

The sound of their weapons colliding resonated like something far beyond steel.

The sword sought to cut through the halberd, while the halberd aimed to shatter the sword.
Each strike cleverly targeted vital points—neck, chest, shoulders—seeking to pierce or sever.

Slashing, striking, breaking, stabbing.

The exchange was deceptively simple yet unimaginably intense.
Who could hope to intervene in such a duel?

[keee!!]
[kiee!!!]
[kaaa-!]

But of course, there are always creatures too ignorant to value their lives.

Sensing the death of their Mother Worm, swarms of Mini Worms emerged, flooding toward the perceived enemy who had slain her.

Dozens, hundreds, thousands…!

Where had they all been hiding?
Their sheer numbers, nearing ten thousand, were terrifying. Drawn by the scent of their mother’s blood, they surged forward, seeking vengeance.

But—

Slash!

They picked the wrong moment to intervene.

They should have waited until the fight was over.

Splatter!

[!!!!?]

The worms began to die—not just die, but be utterly annihilated.

It wasn’t that the two warriors deliberately targeted them.
Neither Ihan nor Maximus paid any mind to the worms. They had no attention to spare for anything other than their duel, where even a moment’s lapse in focus could mean their own demise.

Thus, they ignored the worms entirely.

And yet—

Slash!

[…k…ee…?……!]

Those foolish enough to lunge at the knights were caught in the aftershocks of the battle, their bodies cleaved in two or pulverized outright.

Splatter!

The more ferocious the clash became, the faster the worms perished.
The shockwaves from the swords swept through them, while the pressure from the strikes crushed them into nothingness.

[KEEEE!!!]

A particularly massive worm let out a furious roar, seething with rage.
It was enraged that such lowly prey had killed its siblings and mother. In its wrath, the giant worm began devouring its own kind—both its dead siblings and the remains of its mother.

Crunch, crunch!

Cannibalism.
The survival of the strongest.

For monsters, nothing mattered beyond growing stronger—even if it meant consuming their kin and parent. They lived only to grow and to take revenge.

That’s why they were humanity’s greatest adversaries.

CRUNCH!

The worm grew rapidly.

Its growth defied reason. The creature, which had been merely three meters long, swelled like a balloon, becoming larger, more ferocious, and far more grotesque.

A Sand Worm, the terror and scourge of the desert.

Except now, it had far surpassed even its desert kin, growing to over 100 meters in length—far beyond anything seen before.
In its sudden growth, it had surpassed the strength of its mother.

At this moment—

Slash!!

[[!!!?]]

“What the hell is this?”

Whoosh!

Ihan launched himself into the air, landing atop the massive Sand Worm with remarkable ease.

Arrow Step.

Like a fired arrow, he accelerated midair, shifting his footing with incredible speed and precision.

This was an application of his movement technique, Phantom Octagonal Step, a skill he had previously used against the Ghost King. It allowed him to accelerate unpredictably, moving so swiftly that even the Sand Worm’s eight eyes couldn’t follow his movements.

More than just disorienting his enemy, it was the perfect method for toying with such a massive creature.

Slice! Slash! SLASH!!

In mere moments, Ihan traversed the Sand Worm’s massive body, slashing it repeatedly.
Despite the creature’s newly hardened, resilient shell, it couldn’t withstand his strikes.

Of course, it couldn’t.

After all, Ihan was the same man who had mercilessly carved through the Millennium Troll, a monster once considered the king of beasts.

The Sand Worm, unable to comprehend its opponent’s overwhelming superiority, could do nothing but succumb to its fate.

“How dare you interfere in a knight’s duel? Know your place.”

Crash!

Maximus leaped into the air, bringing his halberd down with a devastating blow upon the Sand Worm’s head.

CRACK!

Lightning sparked and exploded upon impact.

The blow replicated the one that had once felled the Frost Giant in a single strike—

The Thunder Strike.

An attack imbued with the wrath of the heavens, it struck the Sand Worm like divine punishment.

[[----.]]

In its final moments, the newly evolved Sand Worm seemed to regret its actions.

It should have fled instead of meddling.

But by then, it was too late.

CRASH!!!

++++

 

Crunch.

“…Did we kill them all?”
“Hmm, it seems so.”

Unintentionally, the two knights had completely eradicated all the Sand Worms in the tunnels.

In just ten minutes, an army of ten thousand monsters had been wiped off the face of the earth—a feat, no, an achievement.
Among the casualties was even a fully grown colossal Sand Worm, but neither knight seemed particularly moved by this.

Their minds were focused elsewhere, far from the matter of mere monsters.

“Hmph, 189 exchanges… Not even the giants I’ve fought have gone past a hundred.”
“You counted all that while fighting?”
“It just comes naturally.”
“…This is why geniuses are so insufferable.”
“Haha! Don’t flatter me; it’s embarrassing to hear that at my age.”

189 exchanges.

That was the number of times their blades had collided.
And despite such an intense back-and-forth, there was still no conclusion.

Considering most knightly duels resolved within fifty exchanges, their battle had lasted an exceptionally long time.

But had they been holding back?

Not at all.

Every strike they exchanged was delivered with the intent to kill. There was no room for half-measures.
Each blow was a collision of pure power, skill, and will.

They could swear that every clash of their weapons carried everything they had.

Yet—

‘So this is what it’s like to fight someone with similar stamina and recovery.’

Unfortunately, neither of them grew tired.
Even in this fight to the death, their stamina didn’t wane, and their injuries healed almost instantly.

Ironically, the two were too similar in strength, endurance, and resilience to discern a victor.

A perfect stalemate.

If their fighting styles had been different, perhaps one might have gained the upper hand. But their similarities made victory elusive.

Thus—

“How about we settle this with one final blow?”

A single strike to decide the match.
A decisive blow that would claim one of their lives.

To this, Maximus responded—

“Hmph. I wouldn’t mind continuing, though.”

His groan was not from fear of dying, but from regret that the duel might end.
Ihan pointed upward, gesturing toward the collapsing underground world.

Rustle.

“Unless you want your story to end buried under a pile of dirt.”
“Ugh…!!”

Maximus groaned loudly, expressing his disappointment.

He didn’t want the fight to end.
He wanted it to last forever. This thrilling, electrifying duel was intoxicating.

Even as the moments ticked away, Maximus felt sorrow at the thought of this precious time coming to an end.

So—

“What a depressing day, having to take the life of a knight I actually admire.”
“You don’t sound worried about dying yourself.”
“Well, who fights with the intention of losing?”
“…Fair enough.”

Whoosh.
Thud.

Ihan steadied his sword, and Maximus pointed the spear-tipped halberd toward him.

Rumble.

From the moment their weapons brimmed with killing intent, there was no turning back.
One of them would likely face their last day.

Yet, despite the bloodlust emanating from their weapons, their expressions remained calm.
There was no hatred, no animosity—only tranquil focus.

And amidst this—

“You’re quite the thief, aren’t you?”
“Haha, my apologies.”

Ihan had noticed it.
Maximus had “stolen” something from him.

‘So he can pick up techniques just from instinct alone.’

The art of Gyeong—Ihan’s unique Muscle Arts—had been adopted by Maximus at some point during their battle.

What had started as a clumsy imitation had become sharper and more refined with every exchange.
Not even the trio of geniuses Ihan knew, nor the time-traveling prodigies of legends, could have achieved something like this.

But this man?
He learned it by taking hits and experiencing it firsthand.

Given more time, he would master it completely, seamlessly incorporating it into his style.
When Maximus had mimicked the Hundred Steps Divine Fist earlier, Ihan had suspected as much.

‘So this is what it feels like to be the villain in a martial arts story… It’s infuriating.’

There’s always that protagonist in martial arts novels who steals techniques just by watching them. And the trope always has villains fuming and dumbfounded before they meet their end.

Now Ihan understood.

‘They died of sheer frustration.’

If someone perfected in moments what you had spent a lifetime mastering, wouldn’t you lose your mind too?

“Ugh. Being average is a sin…”
“….”
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Well, I’m not saying I’m innocent, but you don’t exactly have clean hands yourself.”
“Me?”
“Indeed. Isn’t that technique you’re preparing… my technique?”
“Oh… this?”

Crackle!

Lightning surged from Ihans sword, mirroring Maximus’s Thunder Strike.

Hence Maximus’s exasperated reaction.
He may have stolen Ihan’s techniques, but Ihan had clearly done the same.

But Ihan refuted the notion.
He hadn’t “stolen” the technique, per se.

“I just figured out the principle. You press down hard on the handle to create artificial friction, then use the sword’s resonance to generate lightning. That’s it, right?”
“….”
“I knew it. It’s a simple principle. It just requires insane grip strength and some finesse to pull off.”

By adding a bit more force and ferocity, Ihan could completely replicate Thunder Strike.

“See? It’s so basic that it’d be embarrassing not to figure it out.”

Ihan shrugged, as if to say it wasn’t theft if the principle was so obvious.

“…Hah.”

Maximus let out a dry laugh, the first time his trademark cheer had faded.
He was genuinely at a loss for words.

‘If it’s so basic, why has no one else figured it out?’

Even when Maximus explained it to knights in the North, they either failed to replicate it or accused him of mocking them. Yet Ihan had cracked it almost immediately.

But what was more infuriating—

Whoooosh!

“Thanks, though. I think I’ve got it now.”

“….”

The technique was no longer Maximus’s.

In Ihan’s hands, it had evolved. It now fit him perfectly, like a custom-made suit.

What Maximus lacked, and what Ihan possessed, was freedom of thought and creativity.

Crackle!

The lightning spread across the sword, illuminating the dark underground chamber with a brilliant blue light.

Fwoosh!

Through his battles with the Ghost King, Ihan had awakened the Plum Blossom Swordplay.
Through his fight against Tristan’s knight Veil, he had grasped Sword Threads.
And in his duel with the Marquis, he had unlocked Arahan.

And now—he was about to create something new.

At this moment, Ihan unified all his insights and breakthroughs into a new, groundbreaking technique, spreading a unique energy through his sword.

What he demonstrated was the swordsmanship of the Namgung family, renowned as champions of Anhui and famed for their Changgung Mu-ae Swordsmanship.
However, Ihan had no interest in ostentatious names like "Emperor's Blade" or "Thunder King's Strike."

Thus, the name he chose for his technique was—

“Mu-ae Sword (無涯劍).”

The Infinite Horizon Sword.

The azure energy emanating from his blade resembled the vast blue sky, its brilliance gradually enveloping the entire sword, forming a chakram.

The chakram, or sword circle, began to rotate faster and faster.

As the intensity of Ihan’s aura grew stronger, the rotation accelerated further—wildly, dangerously—!!

Amidst this display of extraordinary technique, Ihan asked casually:
“What do you think? Not bad, right?”

“…W-Who’s the real genius here…?”

Maximus, known for his unshakable steel heart that never faltered, found himself stammering for the first time.

It might have been the first time he felt not just awe but reverence for another person.

…Was this what others had felt when they looked at him?

“Ha…! Hahaha! HahahaHAHAHA!!”

But soon, Maximus burst into a booming laugh.

He was terrified.
For the first time, fear gripped him—the fear that he might actually die if he took that strike.
It was a sight and power that far exceeded his imagination.

Yet, despite the fear—

‘Ah, how joyous! I am truly fortunate!’

Maximus felt an overwhelming sense of euphoria.

He was grateful for everything.
Grateful for being born with such exceptional talent. Grateful for being able to stand before an opponent like Ihan.
Grateful to fight someone of this caliber.

And so, he resolved to give everything he had.

Whooooosh!

An ominous energy began to gather around the tip of Maximus’s halberd.

If Ihan had used Maximus’s technique as inspiration to create a new one, Maximus had done the opposite.
By absorbing Ihan’s Muscle Arts, he had learned how to push his body to its absolute limits, unleashing his full strength without restraint.

With a body and talent blessed by the heavens, forged through endless struggle, Maximus had finally gained the means to extract every ounce of power from himself.

Even if the strain risked tearing his body apart…

‘What does that matter now?’

It didn’t.

Crunch!

The halberd’s spear tip groaned under the pressure.

Maximus’s overwhelming energy, reinforced by Layered Energy, continued to build.

Crackle!

The Thunder Strike, which had once felled the Frost Giant, evolved into something even more destructive. The spear tip began to distort, resembling a jagged horn of pure power.

If it needed a name—

“This is Sky Breaker.”
“…You’re no better than me at naming things. Truly uninspired.”
“Simple and straightforward—what’s wrong with that?”
“How about Heaven Shatterer instead?”
“…That’s even worse.”
“…Fine, you’re just a glorified cultist anyway.”
“?”

The two warriors would have liked to study and analyze each other’s techniques a bit longer, but unfortunately—

RUMBLE!

In ten seconds or less, the underground world would collapse completely, thanks to their earlier chaos.

Thus, their conversation came to an end.

But even without words—

Whoooom!
Whooooosh!

Their final exchange would be carried out through the collision of their blade and spear.

Some might question:

Why risk their lives in a duel without fame, glory, or applause?

They would answer similarly:

It doesn’t matter.
Such things are fleeting, mere illusions scattered by the gossip of others.

What mattered to them was the present—
This precious moment of fighting someone who made them feel alive.

“───.”

And so, these two men devoted themselves entirely to the fleeting present, living this moment with no regrets.

Perhaps that was why—

FWOOSH───!

—they could smile, no matter the circumstances.

Amidst the collapsing earth and falling rocks, the blade and the spear clashed, and in that moment, an impossible sight appeared in the underground world:

A bright, clear sky.

The ‘Azure Heavens (蒼天)’ illuminated the subterranean battlefield.