Hwaaak!

The moment Jeong Yeon-shin shattered the sword energy with the Stonewall Wave and a single step of Circular Step, he realized he had returned to the basics.

It felt as though the martial principles were being etched into every meridian in his body.

Namgung Hwa-shin’s face came into view. His teeth were clenched, yet his pale complexion remained serene.

Perhaps it was because, despite being outmatched in skill, he still dominated with raw strength.

Jeong Yeon-shin didn’t care. He tilted his upper body slightly forward.

He had just crushed the force of his opponent’s sword strike with a step. Now, with his left fist and the Ipwang Sword in his right, his hands were free.

‘Now’s the time.’

He had to end it here. His Qi was running dry. If this dragged on any longer, he would lose.

He decided to unleash it once more.

The moment he thrust forward the pale Ipwang Sword with his right hand, he triggered the opposing formula with his left. His mind felt cool and clear.

The energy spread from the Neiguan Point below his wrist.

He wrapped the unruly blood energy in Purifying Azure Subjugation Energy.

Whoooong!

He entrusted everything to the fourth, incomplete form of Ultimate Polar Flower Fist.

At that moment, a blinding white sword light filled his vision. Namgung Hwa-shin, who had deflected Lightburst Sword Style, was countering with a strike.

The surging waves of Infinite Sky Sword Technique rushed in like invisible arrows. The split air howled briefly.

Jeong Yeon-shin spread his palm without hesitation.

Swaaak!

Namgung Hwa-shin’s form spun like sleet, cutting through with a gentle, curving trajectory.

His footwork was impeccable—a balance of evasion and counterattack. It looked as though he was aiming to graze past Jeong Yeon-shin and strike.

‘Namgung So-hyeop would…’

He had expected this. The White Qilin was a master capable of responding instantly to even the subtlest moves.

Jeong Yeon-shin anticipated the intent behind Namgung Hwa-shin’s footwork. He was wary of the fourth form’s power.

Jeong Yeon-shin had already used the form once during this duel. Namgung Hwa-shin didn’t know its weaknesses yet. That was enough for now.

Whoong!

Jeong Yeon-shin twisted his hand backward, avoiding the forward strike.

Instead, he released the energy backward.

He filled the meridians running from his shoulders to the center of his left arm—the Hand Jueyin Pericardium Meridian—with compressed, overlapping energy.

Without delay, he detonated the opposing forces of blood energy and Purifying Azure Subjugation Energy.

Boom─!

It felt as though an explosion had erupted from the energy anchored in his arm. The scene around him distorted like a storm. The load on his left foot, which served as the pivot, was immense. He endured it, twisting his body with internal energy.

“······!”

At the final moment, Namgung Hwa-shin’s face came into view. His eyes were wide.

Having already shifted direction once with his footwork, even the White Qilin couldn’t counter again.

The Clear Stream Movement’s speed was blinding.

Namgung Hwa-shin’s sword was already slashing from Jeong Yeon-shin’s flank, but with a single palm technique, the entire position had shifted.

Swaaak!

Jeong Yeon-shin felt the full force of his body’s spin. It was like a raging storm.

It was a fleeting moment.

His innate instincts shone brilliantly. The swirling force, seemingly uncontrollable, naturally guided his body.

He tightened the fibular muscles in his ankle, redirecting the flow of power.

In an instant, it traveled from his thigh, up his waist, and into his right arm.

Clang─!

A sword flew through the air. The spinning blade flashed repeatedly before crashing to the ground.

Paralak!

Jeong Yeon-shin, who had spun two more times with the Ipwang Sword, came to a stop.

The hem of his blue robe fluttered once before settling. He stood there, gripping his sword.

The sunlight reflected off the Ipwang Sword’s blade, casting a long glimmer.

The final move was a technique he had first learned from Ma Gwang-ik.

Accumulated Grind Force—his personal evolution of Clear Stream Sword Technique, inspired by Cheongmyeong. He had truly unleashed everything he had learned.

‘It hurts.’

His hand throbbed. The tingling vibration reached up to his wrist.

“······.”

Silence filled the air.

The spectators had been left stunned by what they had just witnessed.

The White Qilin, Namgung Hwa-shin, had dropped his sword.

A young prodigy of the Namgung Clan, who had mastered their ancient techniques, had been defeated by someone younger.

It was a moment no one could immediately put into words. Everyone understood that.

So naturally, the one to break the silence was one of the duelists.

“It wasn’t even a real battle.”

Namgung Hwa-shin slowly opened his mouth.

“To exchange more blows with brute force would be undignified.”

The most promising talent of the Shunchun Wing, a young martial genius, allowed a faint smile to cross his lips.

He raised his hand in a respectful bow, without hesitation. Did the outcome truly not bother him?

Even though he had fought so hard to win, he now smiled as though satisfied with the duel itself.

“Jeong So-hyeop, it was a good duel. I concede.”

It was the same demeanor he had shown during the Ipwang Examination when he admitted defeat.

He truly embodied the spirit of a righteous martial artist. It was impressive.

‘During the entrance test… it was my sword that flew from my hand.’

A strange emotion rose within him. Was this the weight of time? The memory of being unable to handle Namgung Hwa-shin’s swordsmanship felt vivid.

Back then, he had relied on the White Qilin’s leniency. And yet, here he stood today.

It was a testament to his growth.

Jeong Yeon-shin straightened his posture, spreading Qi through his meridians. The aftermath of the fierce fight had stiffened his body.

He had endured a battle that pushed him beyond his limits.

Strangely, Namgung Hwa-shin looked better physically, but Jeong Yeon-shin managed to hide his weariness and return the gesture of respect.

“I learned much from this duel. I am grateful.”

The Seomye of Ma Gwang-ik and the White Qilin of Shunchun Wing exchanged bows.

It was a scene that symbolized the future of Ipwang Fortress.

Only then did the spectators react.

Some debated the future paths of the two fighters. Others, martial artists to their core, couldn’t hide their excitement at witnessing such a duel. A few already gripped their swords, eager to train.

Amidst it all, the central dueling ground was filled with cheers and admiration.

“I never thought I’d say this, but the fortress’s future is bright.”

“The White Qilin would have shone even in the righteous factions. His magnanimous character is truly admirable.”

“Seomye’s unique martial art is fascinating. I hear one of his techniques is already in the martial archives…”

Jeong Yeon-shin paid no attention to the chatter. He was lost in the aftermath of the duel.

It was clear.

He had taken another step forward.

The Destruction Lord approached Jeong Yeon-shin and Namgung Hwa-shin.

He seemed completely unfazed by the commotion around him. The powerful Qi enveloping his wiry frame was like steel armor—unyielding and awe-inspiring.

This was the man who had beheaded the Hwangbo Clan Leader while supposedly holding back a hidden technique. He seemed to have grown even stronger since then.

“Seomye will fight Namgung’s Young Lord.”

He spoke.

“The White Qilin shall sever the head of Changryeong Flower Mistress.”

He was referring to Namgung Hwa-shin’s half-sister.

It was a declaration fitting for the Destruction Lord—to speak of kin-slaying so indifferently, with such a blank expression, was chilling.

He was a black-clad martial artist who had roamed Kangho for nearly twenty years. They said that molten iron ran through his veins instead of blood.

Jeong Yeon-shin had once heard those whispers.

“…I accept the result of the duel,” Namgung Hwa-shin said stiffly, offering a bow.

What kind of history does he carry? Jeong Yeon-shin wondered. Namgung Hwa-shin was one of the most honorable and righteous individuals he had ever met.

For once, Jeong Yeon-shin found himself curious about someone else’s affairs.

‘It’s a long road to Nanjili.’

They had agreed to share their stories before the duel began. There would be time to talk on the way.

They were martial artists. Words weren’t always necessary. Sharing swords brought them closer.

“Seomye.”

The Destruction Lord called to him. His gaze was oddly contemplative.

“I saw you refining your martial arts here today. It would be a shame for such unparalleled techniques to remain buried. Should you ever compile them into manuals, many would spill blood just to claim those scrolls. That will be your reality once you step into Kangho.”

Jeong Yeon-shin hadn’t considered that. He remained silent.

“Take care to safeguard your martial arts.”

With those words of advice, the man placed a hand on his shoulder, the grip firm and deliberate.

After glancing at both young martial artists, the Destruction Lord turned and walked away.

Namgung Hwa-shin shrugged his shoulders and approached Jeong Yeon-shin.

“Sound advice, wouldn’t you say? Extraordinary martial arts often invite bloodshed. How many nameless heavenly tombs have been dug up and desecrated?”

“I’ve heard of such things,” Jeong Yeon-shin replied quietly, nodding.

Namgung Hwa-shin, looking visibly more relaxed, smiled faintly.

“I’ve suffered consecutive defeats. To one young swordsman.”

“Who knows what will happen the next time we cross swords?”

“For now, perhaps. But do you realize this, Jeong So-hyeop? I’ve personally experienced your growth firsthand—during the Ipwang Examination, and now again today.”

He grinned.

“In another year or so, your opponents will be different. Even among the Thirteen Heavens or the Nine Great Sects, they won’t be your peers anymore.”

“….”

Jeong Yeon-shin had nothing to say. But he couldn’t deny it. To ascend to the rank of Sword Corps Captain, he would have to surpass countless established masters whose names already shook Kangho.

Namgung Hwa-shin continued with a serious expression.

“But for now, let me offer a piece of advice. Refine that strange palm technique and your sword forms. Also, strengthen your internal energy as much as you can. Use whatever Spirit Elixirs you need.”

Namgung Hwa-shin’s gaze darkened slightly as he added, “My older brother… he is strong. As a martial artist and as a person. I’ve never beaten him—not even once. Don’t think you can win with brute strength alone. As the Namgung Clan’s rightful heir, he has consumed more elixirs than you can imagine. Among his peers, he is already counted as one of the greatest.”

“I’ll remember your words.”

Jeong Yeon-shin inclined his head slightly.

He had already found his path. All he needed now was time.

“The days have grown long,” Namgung Hwa-shin murmured as they exchanged bows.

The blazing sunset, still vivid, hinted that the summer solstice had passed.

In the crimson shadows that lingered, people began to drift away one by one.

Some still remained.

“I knew it would end like this!”

It was Hyeon Won-chang and his fellow martial artists from Ma Gwang-ik and Shunchun Wing.

Across the arena, Shin Bin-bin sat on the steps, wearing a conflicted expression.

Jeong Yeon-shin noticed her younger sister, Shin So-bin, sitting beside her. Her wide, round eyes were the same as always.

Bin-bin and So-bin. They were clearly sisters, and Jeong Yeon-shin could easily guess what they had been talking about.

It was Shin So-bin’s face—smiling so gleefully, as though she were immensely pleased—that made it clear. Her expression was amusingly comical.

As the attendants began tidying up the arena, the Grand Commander of Ipwang Fortress approached with a wide smile.

He looked back and forth between Jeong Yeon-shin and Namgung Hwa-shin, his expression filled with satisfaction.

“It was a truly impressive duel.”

“Commander.”

“Commander.”

Jeong Yeon-shin and Namgung Hwa-shin offered respectful bows, which only deepened his smile.

“It will take some time to deliver the official notice. We must first declare our intentions to the Namgung Clan. However, you can expect a result within at least seven days.”

With those final words of praise, the duel came to an end.

It was a day when names like Ma Gwang-ik’s Seomye and Shunchun Wing’s White Qilin were etched deeply into the history of Ipwang Fortress.

***

Afterward.

Time passed in a whirlwind.

Starting the very next day, many people came to visit. The aftermath was completely different from the Recognition Ceremony or the Blue Rank Promotion.

A significant number of masters in Ipwang Fortress had begun to focus their attention on the figures who would face the Namgung Clan. It was inevitable.

The Greatest Clan in the World.

Though the Thirteen Heavens of the Evil Path might dispute it, when the righteous martial artists debated the greatest secular families, Namgung was always mentioned.

They were known as the strongest among the secular factions of the Righteous Martial World. A one-on-one duel between Namgung and Ipwang Fortress was an event that would send shockwaves throughout Kangho.

‘Later. There’s not much time left.’

Jeong Yeon-shin avoided going outside as much as possible. He mostly stayed inside his room, seated on the floor, refusing to leave.

He focused on Qi Circulation, repeatedly cycling energy through every meridian and minor vein in his body.

He poured all his strength into restoring his body to an optimal state. Even the golden ointment applied to his external wounds was carefully absorbed.

The sunsets continued to fade into the horizon. He waited for the crescent moon to fatten into the full brilliance of a shining full moon.

‘Soon.’

Every time he completed a Major Heavenly Circulation, circulating energy through the meridians in his upper body, a single face appeared in his mind.

It was a being of utmost prestige. Their status and martial prowess were unmatched.

The full moon was approaching.