The Authority of the Strong (6)
Five days later.
“……”
“I see.”
Jegal Mun-ho let out a long sigh.
“It is truly regrettable that we allowed the enemy’s leader to escape, yet it is fortunate that everyone returned without a single death.”
“……”
“In truth, eliminating the greater part of the enemy’s vanguard alone is enough to call this battle a victory.”
“We failed to capture the most important one.”
“In ordinary warfare, the loss of three-tenths of one’s forces is judged as annihilation, prompting a retreat order. We eradicated more than nine-tenths of the Shinwha Sect’s high-level experts who had been lurking in Henan.”
“……”
“It is an undeniable overwhelming triumph. You have all labored greatly.”
Moyong Gun sipped his tea in silence.
His energy flow seemed quite unstable, as if he had sustained significant internal injuries. Perhaps for that reason, the Noejeong energy he normally kept under perfect control was leaking out subtly, creating a rather oppressive atmosphere.
Jegal Mun-ho asked, “Was the enemy leader—this First Martial General—truly that powerful?”
“I’m not sure how to describe it.”
Moyong Gun set down his teacup and continued in a calm voice.
“The world says that masters of the Sacred Heavens have reached the Limitless Realm. Yet that is knowing one truth while remaining ignorant of the second.”
“Correct.”
“The Limitless Realm is something else entirely from the Wall of Martial Limits. If climbing the Wall of Martial Limits is like ascending Mount Tai, then the Limitless Realm is the stage of soaring through the heavens. But even the sky has its ranks. The masters of the Sacred Heavens have already risen to the highest firmament, taking the sun and moonlight as their companions while looking down upon the world.”
“Those who fall just short of that are the Three Lords. Of course, even the Three Lords are absolute masters belonging to the Holy Thirteen Seats, yet the sky they walk and the sky walked by the Ten Immortal Emperors are different.”
“Indeed. Well, from our perspective all thirteen exist beyond the heavens, so such comparisons may be meaningless.”
“Precisely.”
Moyong Gun’s eyes deepened.
“The one called the First Martial General had not reached the Limitless Realm. That much I can state with certainty.”
He had witnessed Yang Cheon’s power with his own eyes. Even though the man had used less than half his strength, his aura had already far surpassed imagination. The mere shockwave from his charge had sent a supreme peak master reeling; if he had unleashed his arts in earnest, it was doubtful anyone could have withstood even three exchanges.
No matter how he considered it, Beon Jak’s martial prowess had not even reached the feet of Yang Cheon. Had someone who had only just stepped into the Limitless Realm been present, not a single master there would have survived.
That realm was that exalted. The claim that a master of the Sacred Heavens could single-handedly sweep away a major sect was no exaggeration whatsoever.
“However, among those climbing Mount Tai, he possessed martial prowess closest to its summit. To speak honestly, it would require two of the Six Clans’ family heads working together to even have a chance, and three gathered to aim for better than a fifty-percent chance of victory.”
Jegal Mun-ho’s face hardened. “Is it truly to that degree?”
“Of course, compatibility cannot be disregarded. If a master whose arts perfectly countered his existed, then two family-head-level experts might suffice.”
“In other words, at minimum, two of us would need to step forward together against such a master.”
“Correct. And even then, only if luck favored us.”
Moyong Gun acknowledged Beon Jak’s martial arts without reservation. Though he had scorned him as foreign trash, he could not deny the strength he had witnessed firsthand.
Rather, watching Beon Jak’s techniques had caused Moyong Gun’s fighting spirit to surge. For a moment, his desire for martial progress burned hotter than his hunger for power. It had been a long time since pure martial fervor had ignited within him like this.
“There are many other matters at hand, so there is no need to dwell further. Thus, what I ask now stems purely from personal curiosity. Please bear that in mind.”
“Speak.”
Jegal Mun-ho inquired carefully, “Lord Moyong, are you aware of the true capabilities of Gong Gong Dae-sa and Seunghyeon Jinin?”
“……”
“I am not.”
“Yet you must hold at least vague expectations regarding the extent of their martial prowess.”
“Naturally.”
“Then I wish to ask this. When considering the martial arts of the leaders of Shaolin and Wudang—the two pillars of the martial world—do you believe they could contend with the First Martial General?”
It was a difficult question. A dangerous one as well.
Unlike his usual self, Moyong Gun pondered for a long time. Though he had called it personal curiosity, comparing forces in this manner was absolutely necessary.
The First Martial General was the leader of the Eighteen Martial Generals and the strongest vanguard the Shinwha Sect could deploy. If that was their level, it stood to reason that the vanguards of the other two heretical factions possessed similar strength.
If the heads of Shaolin and Wudang were weaker than the First Martial General, the Martial Alliance would need to focus on radically elevating individual martial prowess rather than merely reorganizing its current structure. That was why Jegal Mun-ho’s question carried such weight, and why Moyong Gun grew so cautious.
After a moment, Moyong Gun spoke.
“In the case of Gong Gong Dae-sa… I cannot be certain.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have made my own estimation of his power. Yet I cannot place full confidence in that estimation.”
“……”
“Still, judging solely by my guess, even Gong Gong Dae-sa would be one step below the First Martial General. However…”
“However?”
Moyong Gun’s gaze deepened further.
“Gong Gong Dae-sa is clearly concealing his strength. Or more accurately, it is less that he hides it and more that he has no need to reveal it.”
“Hmm.”
“If he is indeed holding back, then he should be capable of matching the First Martial General. At the very least, he could force a close contest.”
Gong Gong Dae-sa was one of the Holy Thirteen Seats, the greatest master of Shaolin, and a true powerhouse acknowledged by Mu-heo, the Fist God.
Mu-heo, alongside the Sword Immortal Tak-mu-ja, was regarded as the closest to the absolute pinnacle under heaven. A talent recognized by such a figure could be considered to have entered the ultimate stage of this realm, even if he had not yet attained the Limitless Realm.
“Then what of Seunghyeon Jinin?”
“I cannot say. However, Gong Gong Dae-sa once stated that Seunghyeon Jinin’s realizations were enough to embrace the entire world. Realization spoken by a monk need not refer solely to martial arts, yet the crucial point is that Gong Gong Dae-sa respects Seunghyeon Jinin more than anyone.”
“Indeed.”
“Moreover, the Wudang Sect’s martial arts represent the apex of the Immortal Path, maximizing the principles of striking second yet first and softness overcoming hardness. Regardless of pure skill, when considering only martial compatibility, I believe Seunghyeon Jinin could subdue the enemy more easily than Gong Gong Dae-sa.”
“Hmm.”
Jegal Mun-ho nodded.
“I have heard that the Shinwha Sect’s scorching yang arts excel particularly at true energy emission. To unleash pillars of flame from a human hand—there are few arts in the world capable of such internal energy output.”
“Correct. At the same time, the very nature of their martial arts is overwhelmingly strong. If Seunghyeon Jinin’s level is even with the First Martial General, I guarantee he could suppress him within thirty exchanges.”
Martial victory was not decided simply by reaching a higher realm.
As Moyong Gun had said, compatibility mattered, variables mattered, and above all, the mindset of never lowering one’s guard and maintaining absolute focus mattered.
This was why the world of combat remained fascinating. This was why predicting its outcomes was never easy.
And that was why Moyong Gun found himself thinking that Yeon Wi was truly impressive. I had no idea he had reached such a level.
Moyong Gun recalled Yeon Wi’s swordsmanship.
The way he had exquisitely blocked or deflected Beon Jak’s merciless techniques before charging forward had been nothing short of perfect.
When defending, he had deployed an iron-wall sword. When deflecting, his movements had been as fluid as Wudang’s own arts. When striking, his speed and power had reminded Moyong Gun of his own Heartless Heavenly Thunder Style.
In a single blade, he seemed to have captured the essence of every sword technique scattered across the world. A middle-path swordsmanship that leaned toward no extreme. There might be many stronger than Yeon Wi, but there would not be a single martial art that served as his perfect counter.
He had hidden the martial arts of a beast behind the face of a gentleman. Moyong Gun’s eyes deepened. So this is the father of that Yeon Hojeong. In some ways, he may be even more remarkable than his son.
Yeon Hojeong was a once-in-a-generation genius. He possessed top-tier talent in martial arts, strategy, insight—every field. At least, that was how Moyong Gun saw it.
But Yeon Wi’s sword was not something talent alone could produce.
It demanded endless inquiry into the arts, relentless self-reflection, and the process of dismantling and reassembling countless sword techniques until they became his own.
Of course his sword talent must have been exceptional, yet he had overwhelmed that talent through effort and enlightenment. Even if Yeon Hojeong were told to walk the same path as his father, he would never reach the same heights.
“I have taken your valuable insight to heart, Lord Moyong. You must be weary; I apologize for detaining you so long.”
“Not at all. After all, I am the one in the best condition.”
“Haha, the Tang family head was also more intact than expected.”
“That man’s mind is not intact, however.”
Jegal Mun-ho let out an involuntary chuckle.
Moyong Gun rose from his seat.
“Contact the Regional Commander. There may still be remnants in Henan.”
“Do not worry. Hu-gae is already investigating.”
“As swift as ever.”
“After everyone endured such hardship, we must at least handle the aftermath properly.”
Moyong Gun nodded.
“Take care.”
“You have worked hard.”
* * *
“Hoo.”
Beads of sweat formed on Ki Woo-hee’s forehead.
Yeon Wi asked in a worried tone, “How is he?”
Ki Woo-hee answered in the brightest voice she could manage.
“He is quite severely injured. But he will be fine. He possesses such a robust constitution that recovery should present no major issues.”
“That is a relief.”
“However, greater caution will be needed going forward. Of course, in a life-or-death battle where one cannot see even one step ahead, there is no room for complacency. Yet it appears Lord Yeon once again drew forth power beyond his limits to fight.”
“……”
“While that may aid his martial growth, it is also a double-edged sword. One misstep could leave him with internal injuries difficult to heal. The fact that he has lost consciousness now can be seen as the accumulated fatigue from repeatedly breaking his limits finally bursting forth.”
“It was that serious.”
“Had he been alone, he likely could have managed somehow—if he had been given enough time. But Lord Yeon is someone who never stops running, isn’t he? Sometimes, it is important to rest deeply without thinking of anything at all.”
“I will be sure to convey those words to Hojeong.”
Ki Woo-hee smiled.
“Still, it is astonishing. I have treated thousands of patients over the years, yet I have never seen anyone recover as quickly as Young Master Yeon. It is not merely his internal energy—his physical stamina is truly extraordinary.”
Yeon Wi looked down at Yeon Hojeong with a bitter smile.
His complexion was pale, but his expression appeared relatively peaceful. Although they had failed to capture the enemy leader, it had ultimately been a great victory. The release of tension must have helped as well.
Yeon Wi placed his hand gently on his son’s forehead.
“Rest well.”