Yeon Yeop: Piercing the Petals
“Chung-jae, focus on the sword tip.”
The old man said.
Yeon Chung-jae’s extended sword sliced a single petal cleanly in two. The boy lightly caught both halves on the flat of his blade and showed them to the old man with a confident grin.
“Doesn’t this mean I can move on to the next one?”
Kim Jun couldn’t help letting out an admiring gasp at the precise swordsmanship. Fortunately, neither the old man nor Yeon Chung-jae noticed.
“You think that’s Yeon Yeop?”
The old man chuckled as if amused.
“It’s not?”
“Watch closely.”
The old man reached out, and Yeon Chung-jae’s sword flew into his hand. From the boy’s expression, it seemed the old man had pulled it with some invisible force.
Grunting as he straightened his back, the old man playfully thrust the sword. The falling petal didn’t slice but was pushed back instead.
Yeon Chung-jae scurried over and retrieved it.
“You made a mistake… Huh? Master!”
Kim Jun joined him and examined the petal. At the center of the tiny pink petal was a hole like one made by a needle—three of them, forming perfect equilateral triangle points.
“Once you reach the realm of the first form, Yeon Yeop, from the Yeon Ga Shipil Geom, you can do things like this.”
The old man extended his left hand toward the cherry tree.
Inner energy flowed from his open palm, vibrating the air and shaking the tree mercilessly. Hundreds, thousands of petals poured down, blotting out the view.
The old man’s eyes closed gently as his sword swept through the space—softly at times, fiercely at others.
No petal entered the three-meter radius around him without touching the ground; every one was deflected. The sword tip—the sword seal—had pierced them all.
Yeon Chung-jae was speechless.
Kim Jun was too.
“Chung-jae, what do you think you should do now?”
The old man asked like a mischievous kid.
“…Train.”
With lips pursed, Yeon Chung-jae caught the tossed sword and repeated the motion.
Suddenly, something bizarre happened.
Time reversed. Like a video playing backward, the old man and Yeon Chung-jae’s recent actions replayed in reverse. Falling petals rose upward; sliced petals became whole.
The reversal accelerated.
Snow piled on the stone wall.
Leaves fell to the ground.
Under the scorching sun, only the spot beneath the lush cherry tree remained shaded.
Yeon Chung-jae, practicing sword forms under the tree, grew younger and younger.
Time slowed, and the reversal ended.
Kim Jun saw Yeon Chung-jae as a much younger boy, gripping a wooden sword for the first time under that tree, learning the first stance of the Yeon Ga Shipil Geom: Yeon Yeop.
Explanations followed: how to grip the sword, how to initiate Yeon Yeop, how to train the lower body, how to circulate inner energy.
Standing under the cherry tree, Kim Jun understood how deeply Yeon Chung-jae immersed himself in training, how he attained enlightenment, how he unified inner energy and form.
Visualizing the cherry tree before the stone wall, petals falling, sword piercing them—Kim Jun felt the Cheonnoe Heart Technique coiled in his dantian stir, surging through his body, especially his arms.
Kim Jun gripped the sword as he’d seen and extended his right hand.
The moment the Cheonnoe Heart Technique flowed down his arm, filling every finger joint and bursting forward, the scene before him changed.
The stone wall and cherry tree vanished.
In their place appeared shattered statues, a crooked portrait, and familiar faces.
Kim Jun realized his stance.
It was perfect Yeon Yeop.
The Thunder Brain Sword extended in his right hand had pierced Yoo Gwan-ho’s shoulder precisely.
Yoo Gwan-ho flew backward with a shocked expression, like slow motion. Kim Se-wi’s eyes sharpened as he watched.
Damn…
Until now, Kim Jun had swung the Thunder Brain Sword like a club, wildly. Even a fine sword couldn’t help much that way.
But suddenly, the motion itself changed.
It felt like the person himself had transformed.
Kim Se-wi recognized the swordsmanship immediately.
Yeon Yeop!
Known as the basic sword form everyone in the Yeon family learned, the Yeon Ga Shipil Geom had infinite depths no one could fully master. Without the Thunder Brain Swordsmanship, it might have been the Yeon family’s signature art.
Has he been hiding the Yeon Ga Shipil Geom all this time? That would be interesting. I can’t wait to see what else he’s hiding.
Kim Se-wi glared at Medici’s dealer.
Yoo Gwan-ho, slammed into the wall niche and falling, belatedly realized his right ear was severed—and that he couldn’t hear from that side anymore.
Fear fogged his primal beastly mind.
Like a lion raised in the plains startled by a human gunshot for the first time.
Yoo Gwan-ho observed his prey.
Or perhaps not prey, but hunter.
He concluded quickly. That guy wasn’t a hunter. Retreat now, and he’d keep retreating. Yoo Gwan-ho knew it instinctively.
Leading with his jackknife, Yoo Gwan-ho charged.
The line reappeared, following him, but the Thunder Brain Sword didn’t move on its own.
The hilt—the sword handle—was back to normal, not wrapping his hand.
As the line became a point, Kim Jun shifted his center forward, raised the Thunder Brain Sword, and thrust at the point.
Strongly envisioning piercing cherry blossoms, the Cheonnoe Heart Technique surged from his dantian to arm and hand. But near his wrist, some inner energy escaped the meridians and scattered.
Ugh!
His wrist ached dully, skin tearing like.
Fortunately, the form executed properly.
Direction changes and lightning-fast straights combined into phenomenal movement. The Thunder Brain Sword pierced Yoo Gwan-ho’s right hand precisely as he closed in.
A sane person would dodge, but Yoo Gwan-ho flicked his fingers, hurling the jackknife left-handed. As the sword stabbed his right, he aimed for Kim Jun’s throat with his left.
Sacrifice flesh for bone.
Kim Jun twisted aside, barely dodging, but lost momentum.
Yoo Gwan-ho unleashed varied attacks; Kim Jun could only defend. No room to deploy his sole sword form, Yeon Yeop.
Attacks grew fiercer; Kim Jun was pushed back helplessly. Countering diverse styles was tough.
The short jackknife was brutally threatening.
At this rate… I’m in danger.
Grimacing, Kim Jun hurled the Thunder Brain Sword at Yoo Gwan-ho—a move no normal swordsman would make.
Yoo Gwan-ho’s brows twitched; dodging broke his assault.
Then Kim Jun lunged, extending his right hand.
Bzzt-crack.
Po-noe Strike exploded.
Tiny lightning bolts engulfed Yoo Gwan-ho’s arm.
Medici’s dealer trembled, knees buckling, but Kim Jun couldn’t capitalize.
Sparks crackled from his hand to elbow where he’d unleashed Po-noe Strike.
Some Cheonnoe Heart Technique had veered from the energy paths, attacking his arm. Overexertion today caused internal injury, disrupting energy flow.
Yoo Gwan-ho forced himself up.
Fighting spirit undimmed—he roared like a beast. Grimacing, Kim Jun summoned the Thunder Brain Sword from the wall.
The two glared and charged.
Choi Muhyun tracked Kim Jun with wide eyes.
The Thunder Brain Sword dominated Medici’s dealer. Even Plantem couldn’t fully block its power.
Yoo Gwan-ho avoided direct hits while charging. Without Plantem’s defense and recovery, he’d be down.
When did he get this strong?
Kim Jun fought a Ju Shin Medici Team dealer—not ordinary. Holding out was impressive; he’d nearly felled him several times.
That skilled footwork.
Advanced swordsmanship, one with the blade.
He was thrilled, cheering inwardly. But beneath lurked… clear jealousy.
He knew Kim Jun best.
From carrier training to now, they’d been together. He knew his friend’s efforts, but this scene… defied explanation.
Choi Muhyun forced a smile.
Moving facial muscles to form one. Change starts with action.
I can’t lose like this. Wait a bit. I’ll catch up soon.
Choi Muhyun eyed Kim Se-wi.
That Raider leading Medici was beyond imagination. He had to create an opening for Guild Master Go Cheol-min.
His body was paralyzed.
Many tries, but no way to release the pointing blood.
Couldn’t move freely, but could disrupt Kim Se-wi at key moments for time.
Sighing inwardly, Choi Muhyun circulated inner energy to his hand. Gathered there, it slowly formed an energy rope, extending outward.
The same Moon Shadow Cannon that had startled Kim Jun earlier.
Can’t throw with paralyzed arms, but can set as a trap on the floor.
Moon Shadow Cannon had variants. He chose ‘Absorb’.
Before full setup, he glanced at his friend. Yoo Gwan-ho retreated from the Thunder Brain Sword, but looked uneasy.
Paler than before, trembling post-attack—far from normal.
Qi deviation?
Maybe the sudden power surge was the sword’s. High chance of qi deviation.
Grinding teeth, Choi Muhyun closed eyes, focusing on Moon Shadow Cannon.
Yoo Min-jeong forgot her pain, watching Kim Jun’s swordsmanship.
Beautiful!
So… strong!
Could someone change this much in a day?
His movements transformed dramatically.
She’d watched closely, knowing his efforts mastering Mok Honbo Tan step.
But martial arts aren’t stairs—easy climbs. Sometimes endless days of trial.
She’d thought months for Mok Honbo Tan mastery, yet here Kim Jun flowed softly, like strolling, tracing curves.
More astonishing: handling the Thunder Brain Sword.
Straight lines diving into foes.
Perfect circles spinning wide.
As he moved, circles became ellipses, embroidering space. Astonishingly, eyes wide, she saw only the sword, not him.
Then blood poured from Kim Jun’s nose.
Not a simple nosebleed—gushing red. He looked panicked but couldn’t wipe or tilt; Yoo Gwan-ho’s counters left no slack.
Now Yoo Min-jeong understood.
Early qi deviation symptoms!
As Go Cheol-min moved to intervene, Kim Se-wi wagged a finger.
“Do as you like if you want to lose them.”
Kim Se-wi glanced at Yoo Min-jeong and Choi Muhyun.
Shame burned her cheeks. Without her capture, Kim Jun wouldn’t suffer.
Lightning energy flowing through her shattered the dual ring on her finger with a crack. The core holding Torun Gong exploded, scattering; ring split, falling.
Spitera crumbled to dirt.
Kim Jun’s eyes grew hazy.
Yoo Min-jeong’s heart raced. She knew why he fought Yoo Gwan-ho: to save her and Choi Muhyun. She had to recover her paralyzed body.
Kim Se-wi paralyzed with two pointing blood strikes.
Shoulder and back points: Geunjeong and Pungmun.
Magic pushed them back, but high-level inner energy via fingers was hard to dispel.
Mages dread martial artists’ approaches partly for pointing blood. Once hit, helpless often.
But competing since dungeons opened, she knew counters.
Magic circle opener.
Tattooed on body; activates on foreign inner energy, expelling to release paralysis.
Many similar items.
Problem: Yoo Wan-seop’s daughter, Ju Shin member—never threatened, ignored openers/items.
Yoo Min-jeong knew her only option.
Spirit summon!