Conviction (3)
Myeong Horim's face betrayed unmistakable tension. It wasn't just him. The later-generation disciples resting nearby and those in the midst of sparring all turned their eyes toward the two men.
Yeon Hojeong had proven his prowess by crushing Noe Hyeop Chu-seong. Myeong Horim was the third young master of the world's greatest family, the one who had cultivated his martial arts more deeply than anyone else here. When two such figures faced off, an inexplicable silence fell over the area.
Some might refuse to acknowledge it, but this was a duel between the two strongest in the training grounds. It was only natural that it drew everyone's attention.
Myeong Horim finally spoke up, a bit late. "I was a touch delayed, but I caught your duel with Chu Danju. Well fought."
"Thanks."
"Impressive spearwork. The Yeon family has such a technique in its arsenal?"
"Nothing compared to the Myeong family's."
Myeong Horim let out an amiable laugh. "It's quality that matters over quantity, wouldn't you say? That exquisite spear art you've never seen before—it opened my eyes."
Yeon Hojeong smiled back. "I'd like to witness the true martial arts of the world's greatest family myself."
It was a loaded remark. Myeong Horim, oblivious to the undercurrent, chuckled. "Haha, I hope it lives up to Young Master Yeon's expectations."
"Modest words."
Whooong.
Yeon Hojeong gripped the midpoint of his iron rod and spun it, signaling he was ready.
"This is a messy spot for it, but we've tasted each other out enough. Let's get to the main event."
"Tasting" meant close-quarters brawling. Myeong Horim recalled yesterday's tussle, his expression hardening.
'Not ordinary at all. And today too.'
The techniques he'd shown against Chu-seong were all brutally practical, one and all. But Myeong Horim had glimpsed Yeon Hojeong's true capabilities hidden within those ferocious forms.
'It's not just that his martial arts are superior. The key is how he deploys them in any given situation.'
Yeon Hojeong knew how to wield his weapon at the optimal moment with pinpoint precision. It was no easy feat for anyone.
It demanded not just talent, but a staggering volume of real combat experience—impossible without it.
Where had this young man racked up such battle-hardened expertise?
'And...'
When Chu-seong had blocked those first three exchanges.
'Something was there, without a doubt.'
He'd sensed an inexplicable pressure binding Chu-seong. Or at least, it had felt that way. Yeon Hojeong had done something, but he couldn't pin it down exactly.
'Whatever it was, no doubt about it—he possesses more than meets the eye.'
Yeon Hojeong's eyes gleamed. "Shall we begin?"
"Very well."
Myeong Horim scooped up a wooden sword from the ground. It was gently curved—not a wooden sword at all.
Yeon Hojeong's eyes sharpened. 'Blade art?'
He recalled the night his clan had been invaded by that mysterious force. Whether in his previous life or now, regressed into the past, he'd never forgotten that incident.
The shock had been so profound that he remembered nearly every detail.
'There were blade users among them, for sure.'
Not just blades. Sword wielders, fist fighters, even spear masters. The attackers had all used the most common weapons of the jianghu. No one wielded specialized hidden weapons, twin axes, whips, or iron brushes.
If the Myeong family truly was the clan behind the raid on the Yeon—and if he could glimpse traces of those assailants in the blade art of their third young master, Myeong Horim.
Then what? If the Myeong family was truly guilty, how should he proceed from here?
'...'
Yeon Hojeong shook off the thought. 'It might not be them. Hasty judgments are dangerous.'
He'd deliberately stirred up this training ground atmosphere not just to face Myeong Horim, but to test them all.
In case he'd overlooked something.
But nothing. No matter how he racked his brain, he found no similarities between the attackers' arts and those of other clans.
Yet yesterday, he'd sensed a heterogeneous edge in Myeong Horim's aura—eerily akin to the invaders'.
Ssk.
Myeong Horim lowered into stance. "I'm set."
"Same here."
"Then let's begin."
Paak!
The two lunged without a word, faster than full-force sprints despite holding back. Swifter footwork than anyone training here.
Yeon Hojeong unleashed his art without hesitation.
Whiaaak!
The Whirlwind Rod Method unfolded. Free and supple like the wind, it targeted Myeong Horim's shoulder and flank simultaneously.
Myeong Horim's eyes flashed. 'Strong!'
One exchange told him everything. How extraordinary Yeon Hojeong's staff mastery was.
A world apart from barehanded brawling.
The rod swings infused with Bi-ra Jin-gyeol embodied lightness and heaviness in paradoxical harmony.
Myeong Horim swung his wooden sword.
Kagagang!
A superb response. His dual-hand blade form wasted no motion, blocking the heavy iron rod from its root.
Yeon Hojeong's foot slammed the ground.
Kung!
The powerful rebound surged up his thigh, reinforcing his waist.
Paaaang!
A thrust exploding in an instant, propelled by waist-twist torque—blindingly swift.
Myeong Horim dropped low and parried upward.
Kagak!
Myeong Horim's eyes wavered. He could feel it without looking—the rod's thrust had nicked the sword's surface.
'Immense power!'
Teoreung!
Myeong Horim shoved the rod away and leaped back, only to jolt in surprise.
Whiaaak!
As if he'd anticipated the retreat, Yeon Hojeong was already closing in. Dangerously close.
No time to swing the sword.
And the rod was moving too—a horizontal sweep so fast it bent mid-air.
'Can't block it?!'
He was on the defensive after mere exchanges. At this rate, defeat was certain.
Not even close—he hadn't slipped up, yet he was about to crumble pathetically.
'Careless...!'
He'd known the opponent's form deployment was masterful, yet here he was.
Careless. Defeat. Error.
The three words scorched his pride.
Whook!Kaaaang!
The arm gripping the rod grew heavier. Somehow, the wooden sword had blocked it.
An impossible timing to parry—yet he had.
Woooung.
A faint golden aura rose from Myeong Horim's body, hands clenched on the dual-grip sword.
Yeon Hojeong's eyes gleamed. At last, Myeong Horim had unleashed his true power.
Hwaaaa.
The erupting golden energy stretched like heat haze in all directions.
A breathtaking sight. Beyond the sheer magnitude, to manifest qi so tangibly was astounding.
'Impressive.'
Gadeuksang let out a gasp of admiration. 'An aura that vivid? Even a peak master wouldn't be ashamed.'
Teoreung!
Yeon Hojeong fell back. Myeong Horim moved to press the attack but flinched.
Yeon Hojeong hadn't simply retreated. Gripping the rod's end, he whipped it forward—a ferocious emission of projected force straight for the chest.
Like a spike on a whip's tip.
No mere inner power release could stop it.
"Hap!"
Kwaang!
A clean diagonal slash dispersed the projection.
Huuk!
Yeon Hojeong charged again before he could reset.
'What the—!'
Absurd stamina. Attacks and evasions too rapid.
The problem: this style of exchange drained stamina massively.
No—before that, it overtaxed the muscles.
Yeon Hojeong's body was flushed red hot, muscles wrung to their limit.
'Show me.'
Yeon Hojeong swung the rod, blanketing all directions. Myeong Horim retreated in succession.
'Unleash your true martial art!'
Kung!
The rod tip shattered the bluestone floor.
Right then, Myeong Horim's counter began.
Teoreung!
Yeon Hojeong's eyes widened. In an instant, it was as if his arm had elongated—the wooden sword slashed diagonally.
Exquisite counterplay. Not mere reflexes; the forms themselves emphasized retaliation.
Kaang!
He retracted the rod in time to block, but the shock lingered heavily.
It didn't end there. Myeong Horim's blade art was just warming up.
Kwoong!
Myeong Horim stomped forward. The Geonju Myeong clan's true divine art, Gold Net Divine Art, fueling the Demon-Slaying Blade Method.
A powerful art created just a generation ago, passed only through blood.
Kaang! Kagagang!
The dual-hand swings were majestic and forceful. Yet without flashy traits.
Like a testament to simplicity's supremacy, raw power and speed infused basic motions.
Kagagang!
In a blink, Yeon Hojeong was pushed back. He spun the rod with both hands to defend, but counters weren't landing properly.
Myeong Horim's eyes flashed. He'd seized momentum—time to finish it.
He maxed out the Gold Net Divine Art.
Jiiing!
The golden qi blazed brighter.
Simultaneously, the energy on the wooden sword began to vortex slowly.
'...?!'
Yeon Hojeong's eyes bulged. 'This?!'
Three strikes incoming. Paths and principles varied.
But that swirling qi within the blade—he'd seen it before.
Or rather, he remembered that qi circulation method.
Kaagang! Kung!
The mighty slash bounced the rod, gouging the ground.
The qi in the blade spun wildly on its own.
Invisible to ordinary eyes. But Yeon Hojeong's senses caught it.
A fundamental heterogeneity from Central Plains martial arts. Outwardly honest and profound, yet the inner power operation was utterly alien.
And that art was...
'Palm!!'
In that instant, Yeon Hojeong's eyes blazed azure.
Buwoong! Kwaang!
"Kuhuk!"
Myeong Horim's body was shoved straight back.
His eyes shook. 'What monstrous martial art!'
He stared at his wooden sword. It was nearly splintered.
Without full Gold Net Divine Art, that blow would've inflicted severe injury.
Myeong Horim looked at Yeon Hojeong.
Tststs.
A surging cerulean qi rippled from Yeon Hojeong's frame. The Yeon clan's one of five great arts, Bi-ra Jin-gyeol, rivaling Gold Net Divine Art, now ablaze.
Both hands gripped the rod, one knee planted. But the grip was odd—not a spear or staff, but like a crescent blade or massive axe.
Suddenly, a chill crawled up Myeong Horim's spine.
'That's not his true art!'
Indeed. Everything so far—barehand techniques, rodplay, even spearwork—none were Yeon Hojeong's genuine martial art.
His true ultimate technique was far stronger, far more explosive.
Sararak.
Yeon Hojeong rose from his spot, head bowed. Like a bow of respect—or hiding his face.
"Best we end the spar here."
Hallucination? His voice sounded faintly cracked.
Myeong Horim dropped the shattered sword and cupped his fists. His hands trembled ever so slightly. The shock had been too great.
"I've learned much."
"Likewise. Farewell."
With that, Yeon Hojeong strode across the training grounds toward the inner courtyard.
He moved so swiftly even Yeon Jipyeong couldn't keep up.
The lone path to the inner lodgings. Horrific killing intent smoldered in Yeon Hojeong's eyes.
"......The Myeong family it is."