Three Knots in the Seam
In the center of the Iron Soul Unit's martial training grounds, Dokgo Jin looked at Mok Woo-jeon standing across from him and felt genuinely surprised.
To think he'd challenge me to a spar so quickly.
They had indeed promised to exchange moves once they returned to the Northern Heavens Fortress, but in the interim, Dokgo Jin had put on an overwhelming display of martial prowess in his duel against Neung Wi-gwan. He had assumed that Mok Woo-jeon, having witnessed that spectacle firsthand, would hesitate—even if only a little.
In fact, on the return trek, Mok Woo-jeon had largely abandoned his beloved chatter, spending much of the journey wrapped in solitary contemplation.
Could it be... he spent all that time brooding over how to fight me?
Mok Woo-jeon's face was flushed with anticipation as he spoke.
"Heheheh. Thank you for accepting my challenge, Dragon Tiger Plaque Master."
"A promise is a promise, so it is only natural," Dokgo Jin replied calmly. "Are you confident, though?"
"I'd be lying if I said yes. But I won't go down without making you work for it."
In Dokgo Jin's hand rested not Extinction, but an ordinary iron sword. The intent behind that choice was unmistakable, yet Mok Woo-jeon paid it no mind.
Warriors of the Iron Soul Unit had gathered around the perimeter of the ring in droves upon hearing that Dokgo Jin was sparring with a guest from the Guest House Hall.
"Oho!"
"We get to see our Dragon Tiger Plaque Master in action again! If the guy's from the Guest House Hall, he can't be a pushover."
"I've got high expectations for this one."
Yet among the bustling onlookers, Yoo Seol-ah harbored entirely different thoughts.
Is he truly a martial artist from the Guest House Hall? His presence doesn't feel right at all...
She was well-acquainted with the caliber of the Guest House Hall. The retainers and wandering masters gathered there were formidable figures, every last one reaching the Peak Realm at minimum. Yet the energy Mok Woo-jeon projected was, at the very best, only that of the First-Class Realm.
Does he have something extraordinary up his sleeve?
Mok Woo-jeon took hold of the long hilt slung across his back with both hands.
Chrrk.
A heavy, scraping metallic rasp rang out as the blade slid clear of its sheath. Its handle was significantly longer than those of ordinary swords, matched with a thick, single-edged steel blade.
"..."
The instant steel met his grip, the light in Mok Woo-jeon's eyes transformed completely.
His lax, easygoing demeanor vanished without a trace, replaced by a battle-hardened veteran who remembered the reek of copper and blood on the battlefield. Even Dokgo Jin felt a spark of genuine admiration at such an imposing aura.
Is this the fighting spirit forged in the meat grinder of actual warfare?
It was worlds apart from someone who merely practiced forms within the safe confines of a martial ring.
Boom!
Mok Woo-jeon kicked off the earth, erupting a cloud of dust. Just when it seemed he would charge straight ahead, he veered diagonally toward Dokgo Jin's flank and began spinning like a whirlwind.
Unconventional right from the opening move.
Mok Woo-jeon's attack was bizarre. Before their blades had even crossed, he was whipping his sword through empty air, gathering terrifying momentum.
Vwoooom!
A thunderous roar echoed through the grounds, sounding like the blades of a colossal windmill caught in a gale. By layering the sheer mass and centrifugal force of the heavy blade atop his modest inner reserves, he multiplied its destructive power, carving ragged tears through the air.
Having wound his momentum to its absolute peak, Mok Woo-jeon bent the trajectory of his longsword and cleaved straight toward Dokgo Jin.
Instead of dodging, Dokgo Jin lifted his blade to receive the blow.
Claaang!
An ear-splitting shriek of steel resounded, sending a sharp, stinging jolt straight up Dokgo Jin's wrist.
What monstrous physical strength!
The internal energy infused into the strike wasn't particularly remarkable, yet the sheer kinetic force packed behind that blow rivaled that of a Peak Realm master. The iron grip of both hands, the rotational torque of his waist, and the brute force wrung from every muscle in his frame had all been compressed into the tip of his blade.
Yet Mok Woo-jeon's onslaught was far from over.
Cl-cl-clang!
"...!"
Dokgo Jin's eyes widened. Mok Woo-jeon converted the very recoil of the deflected sword into further rotational momentum, instantly cleaving back in from the opposite flank. There was no wind-up or telegraphing between strikes. Like meshed cogs turning in a merciless engine, his strikes flowed endlessly into one another.
Impressive.
It was brutally pragmatic swordsmanship, stripped bare of all frivolous flourishes. An unbroken chain of hacking, cleaving, and spinning—a barrage born of the fierce determination not to grant Dokgo Jin a single breath to gather his qi or project blade gang.
"Hrragh!"
With an explosive roar, Mok Woo-jeon dropped low. It was a vicious sweep aimed at the lower body.
Just as Dokgo Jin lightly kicked off the ground to leap over the sweep—
Whoosh.
The blade, seemingly having passed its mark, suddenly ground to a dead halt and erupted upward in reverse. Leveraging the elongated hilt, Mok Woo-jeon had violently wrenched the sword off its natural trajectory.
An erratic variation?
It was a maneuver that placed immense strain on wrists and joints, yet Mok Woo-jeon didn't hesitate for an instant. It stemmed from the absolute confidence that his battle-tested body would not break under such torque.
Clang!
Dokgo Jin twisted mid-air and parried the rising edge. Yet Mok Woo-jeon did not halt his advance. Shifting his leverage, he drove the pommel of the long hilt straight at Dokgo Jin's solar plexus.
The versatility with which Mok Woo-jeon wielded his longsword was breathtaking. Sword morphed into spear, then shifted seamlessly into staff. Dokgo Jin felt as though he were locked inside a grinding waterwheel studded with dozens of razor-sharp blades. Though the man's inner reserves were modest, a momentary lapse in focus would see one's robes dragged in and shredded to ribbons.
Now I understand.
Dokgo Jin could finally grasp why Sagong Wun had gone out of his way to recruit Mok Woo-jeon.
However...
Dokgo Jin took a light step back, then closed the distance again like a lightning strike. In that same heartbeat, the ordinary iron sword in his grasp dissolved into a storm of silver phantoms.
Sssh-sssh-sssh-sssh-sssh!
A dazzling deluge of swift sword strikes cascaded over Mok Woo-jeon.
"...!"
To Mok Woo-jeon's eyes, it felt as though an entire constellation of stars had come crashing down upon his skull.
Wh-what terrifying speed!
Mok Woo-jeon had calibrated his entire strategy around the Dokgo Jin he had observed battling Neung Wi-gwan. This sudden burst was completely outside his calculations. Only now did he realize that the martial prowess Dokgo Jin had revealed against Holy Sword Heaven's expert was merely a fraction of his true depth.
Damn it!
He forcibly reined in his longsword, swinging it like a millstone in desperate defense.
Cl-cl-cl-cl-clang!
He managed to deflect several sword shadows, but he could not intercept them all.
Rip-rip-rip!
Dokgo Jin's iron sword grazed Mok Woo-jeon's frame, drawing thin ribbons of crimson across his chest and shoulders.
"Khk!"
In the end, Mok Woo-jeon had no choice but to stumble backward, his balance shattered. Had Dokgo Jin not shown mercy and kept the cuts shallow, Mok Woo-jeon would have been riddled with lethal punctures and collapsed on the spot.
Dokgo Jin lowered his sword tip to the earth and asked, "Shall we continue?"
Mok Woo-jeon offered a wry, bitter smile and shook his head.
"You truly are the Dragon Tiger Plaque Master. I concede my defeat."
Waaaaaah!
Only then did the warriors of the Iron Soul Unit, who had been watching the exchange with bated breath, erupt into thunderous cheers.
"Whoa! What a match!"
"His opponent was far tougher than he looked, but our Dragon Tiger Plaque Master takes it in the end!"
"That was an unusual style, though."
Mok Woo-jeon's swordsmanship—compensating for a deficit in internal energy through raw physical strength, body weight, and acceleration—was undeniably remarkable. However, such a style inevitably suffered from intervals where the blade's velocity dipped. Its straightforward trajectories were another glaring vulnerability. Mok Woo-jeon had attempted to bridge those gaps through relentless combination attacks, but against a true master, that alone fell short. That was why he had crumbled so cleanly before Dokgo Jin's swift swordplay.
If he can overcome his lack of inner energy and diversify his angles of attack...
It was a sword art with enough promise to establish an entire school of its own.
Of course, that will be no simple feat.
Sagong Wun surely recognized that as well, which was why he placed such high value on Mok Woo-jeon's latent potential.
"The vice commander of the Second Heaven Squad, you say."
"Yes. Known as the Heavy Wall Sword, Neung Wi-gwan is reputed to be an accomplished master even within Holy Sword Heaven."
Listening to the report, an intrigued gleam surfaced in the eyes of the White Tiger Flag Master.
"And he overpowered such a specialist of the heavy sword using a heavy sword himself?"
"Indeed. Thanks to that, not only was our alliance's prestige elevated, but word has it that it indirectly aided the Cloud Sea Palace Master during negotiations."
The White Tiger Flag Master smiled with deep satisfaction.
"He is performing even better than I anticipated. We might be able to move our timetable forward."
Standing in the shadows, the White Fang Unit Leader spoke cautiously.
"The Dragon Tiger Plaque Master is far more exceptional than we imagined. Would it not be a waste to simply use him and discard him...?"
"Looking solely at his martial prowess, perhaps. But the man cannot be trusted. We cannot place great responsibility upon someone who may very well have been dispatched by one of the other Three Hegemons."
"Do you distrust the intelligence verified by the Heavenly Mechanism Hall?"
"Intelligence can be fabricated with ease. Do you truly believe the other Three Hegemons lack the capability to manufacture a clean past?"
The White Tiger Flag Master narrowed his eyes into dangerous slits.
"Furthermore, even I could not fully fathom the depths of his internal energy."
The White Fang Unit Leader's eyes widened behind his white mask.
"Could it be...?"
"That does not mean he is a master greater than I. But he has cultivated something... peculiar. It is certainly no mundane martial art like the Dark Soul Style."
"..."
"Even if he isn't their spy, it makes no difference. Why shouldn't we make use of a pawn that rolled right into our hands?"
"Your words are just, Banner Lord."
"Heh, I know you have a soft spot for promising young talent. But one must exercise extreme caution when deploying an unpredictable variable. A single slip, and you find a dagger driven into your spine."
"I will keep that in mind."
"Enough about the Dragon Tiger Plaque Master. So, did the Cloud Sea Palace Master pull it off again this time?"
"Yes. The Cloud Sea Palace Master's capabilities are truly astonishing. Most believed he was destined to fail..."
The White Tiger Flag Master nodded slowly.
"Credit where credit is due. I assumed he was merely riding on the coattails of his backing all this time, but he has certainly defied expectations. Then again, the Alliance Leader wouldn't have taken him as a direct disciple without such competence."
"Would it not pose a problem if the Cloud Sea Palace Master expands his faction even further?"
"It is already too late for that. No matter what achievements he secures, the real power brokers within the alliance have long since chosen their allegiances. He may win the favor of the common masses, but that holds little true weight."
A cold, resolute light flashed in the White Tiger Flag Master's gaze.
"In the end, the next Alliance Leader will be the Limitless Hall Master."
When Dokgo Jin opened his eyes, his entire body was drenched in cold sweat.
"..."
Without a word, he wiped his brow. It had been a horrific nightmare.
A terror that never grew familiar no matter how many hundreds, thousands of times he endured it; the agony of being hacked by blades would have been far easier to bear. He strained his ears to check if he had cried out in his sleep, but fortunately, only profound silence hung in the air. Requesting a private room to prepare for unforeseen moments had been a wise decision.
I will never get used to these damn nightmares.
The small mercy was that he hadn't screamed aloud.
"Phew..."
With trembling fingers, Dokgo Jin swept his hair back and steadied his ragged breathing. Then, out of ingrained habit, he turned his senses inward to inspect his dantian.
Pitch-black darkness.
The energy of the Nine Nether Dark Sky Scripture coiled deep within his dantian was a shade thicker than the day before. Any ordinary martial artist would have rejoiced at such rapid advancement, yet only a bitter smirk touched Dokgo Jin's lips.
It tightens its grip around me... day by day.
Growing stronger meant drawing that much closer to the day the abyss would swallow him whole. At times, a creeping dread seized his heart: the fear that he might be devoured by that very darkness before he could ever see his vengeance through.
Yet Dokgo Jin shook his head, violently clearing the dark thoughts from his mind.
Fear was merely sustenance for the abyss. As long as he did not let it consume him, this abyssal power remained his greatest, most dependable ally for vengeance.
Never rush. Even if the path is slow, make every step absolute.
Reciting the words like an incantation, he calmed his turbulent spirit and rose to his feet.
After circulating his qi through a brief meditative cycle to settle his meridians, he picked up his martial robe draped over the chair.
Rustle.
As he slipped his arm into the sleeve, his motion halted dead in mid-air.
"...!"
A minute, unfamiliar texture brushed against the tips of his fingers.
Slowly, carefully, he traced an inconspicuous seam sewn into the inner lining of the robe.
Three... knots.
Stitching distinctly different from usual. It was a covert signal from Wi Geum-seong.
A clandestine rendezvous. Urgent.
Dokgo Jin's gaze turned razor-sharp.
Acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, he slipped into the robe and fastened Extinction across his back with practiced ease.
That evening, Dokgo Jin made his way toward the outer fortress of the Northern Heavens Fortress for the first time in a long while.
Dark Sky Martial Emperor
Author: Jeong Cheon
Publisher: Samyang C&C Co., Ltd.
Managing Editor: Editorial Department
Published by: Samyang C&C Co., Ltd. – Dream Books
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