The Sharpness of a Forgotten Blade
"It seems it has been far too long."
Bukjin, who had been closely observing the expressions of the veteran swordsmen, realized they weren't acting. From the snippets of their conversation, it was clear they truly didn't understand what had just transpired. The young swordsmen were equally bewildered, looking even more lost than their elders.
'Wait, was I the only one who saw what just happened?' Bukjin wondered, a strange sensation washing over him.
It was then that Jeong Sam-seok spoke, his voice slow and deliberate.
"Baek Hae-geum, you have lost."
The moment the words left his lips—
"Cough!"
The form of Baek Hae-geum, the Sword Saint and one of the three legendary swordsmen of White Cloud City, buckled violently. A spray of fresh blood erupted from his mouth. The armor of blue Mystic Energy that had shielded his body shattered completely, scattering into the air like shimmering azure dust. Soon, a crimson stain spread across his right chest, soaking his robes in blood.
"You... how...?"
Baek Hae-geum's eyes were wide with sheer terror. The power displayed by Jeong Sam-seok's single strike was nothing short of horrifying. In the instant their blades met, he had been transported back decades, to the moment he first held a sword. He remembered his master performing a technique for his disciples, a single strike that pierced through a massive mountain. This was that same feeling—shocking, incomprehensible, and utterly overwhelming.
An absolute power that defied any attempt at resistance.
'This isn't Jeong Noe's strength. This is a power he shouldn't possess.' Unable to process the reality of the situation, Baek Hae-geum glared at Jeong Sam-seok with murderous intensity.
"If I had aimed for the left side of your chest just now, you would already be a corpse," Jeong Sam-seok said calmly. "Im Bukjin attacked with that same restraint, which is why Jo Pacheon is still breathing. Now, have you realized that when an opponent spares your life, you should feel gratitude, not indignation?"
"Urgh!"
Baek Hae-geum spat out another mouthful of blood as his body slowly slumped toward the ground. He realized that Jeong Sam-seok was throwing his own words back at him—the very words he had used to corner Bukjin earlier. The realization hit him harder than the physical wound. Jeong Sam-seok hadn't just defeated him; he had possessed enough composure to deliberately target the right side of his chest instead of the heart.
Only then did the spectators finally grasp the outcome of the duel.
"Jeong Sam-seok won?"
"How is that even possible...?"
The result was inconceivable. Three years ago, during the Sword Trial, the Sword Saint Baek Hae-geum had completely dominated Jeong Sam-seok. He had ground the man once known as the Sword Immortal into the dirt, showing an overwhelming disparity in power. In fact, for the past ten years, Baek Hae-geum had always held the upper hand. Yet now, the Sword Saint had fallen to Jeong Sam-seok in a single exchange. The battle had ended far too quickly.
Looking up at the lingering trail of sword light etched into the sky, the veteran swordsmen felt a sudden chill seep into their bones.
'To defeat Baek Hae-geum in a single blow!'
Today's Sword Trial was destined to shake the entire Empire. Myeong Won-san and Yuk Jeong-do exchanged glances, seeing only regret and burgeoning fear reflected in each other's eyes. They were the ones who had sided with Baek Hae-geum, assisting him at every turn. They hadn't harbored a single doubt that Baek Hae-geum would emerge victorious. But the reality was...
"Have you been hiding your true strength all this time?" Baek Hae-geum hissed, trembling with rage. "Did you endure all those years of humiliation just to wait for this moment... for this Sword Trial?"
He wanted to scream accusations, to brand Jeong Sam-seok a deceiver, but the words died in his throat. Hiding one's strength wasn't exactly a crime worthy of condemnation in the world of martial arts.
Jeong Sam-seok replied with chilling indifference. "Until now, I simply didn't feel the need to win just to prove a point to you."
"What?" Baek Hae-geum roared, as if he had been slapped. "What did you just say!"
"I've simply lost the desire to be indulgent with you. That is why you lost," Jeong Sam-seok said. "It is a very simple logic."
With those few, blunt words, Jeong Sam-seok inflicted a wound of profound shame upon Baek Hae-geum. Overcome by fury, the Sword Saint coughed up blood once more. His vision darkened, and he plummeted from the roof, crashing onto the ground below. Myeong Won-san and the other elders didn't move to help him. Even his own disciple, Jo Pacheon, stood frozen with a stunned expression, offering no reaction.
It was Myeong Nak-yeon who finally blurred into motion, catching the unconscious Baek Hae-geum before he hit the dirt. Meanwhile, Jeong Sam-seok stood atop the government building, his robes fluttering in the wind. He looked less like a man and more like a god of war.
He looked down, his voice neither fast nor slow, yet carrying an irresistible weight of authority.
"In today's Sword Trial, the winner of the youth duel is Im Bukjin. Are there any objections?"
Im Gun-hyeon and his wife remained silent. The veteran swordsmen stared at the fading sword scar in the sky before, one by one, they bowed their heads.
"No objections."
"Let it be so!"
"Haha! Young Bukjin's talent is truly peerless! To win all three categories in a single day!"
Suddenly, several of the elders began to laugh and offer praise, though the smiles on their faces were painfully awkward.
'Whoa! Old Man Jeong is incredible!' Bukjin thought, a wave of genuine surprise washing over him. 'He's been hiding his power this whole time? I had no idea Master Jeong was such a monster!'
Bukjin turned his head to scan the area. He noticed Baek Geum-un clutching her hands tightly, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She, too, seemed profoundly shaken by Jeong Sam-seok's display of martial might.
"Now then, it is time to settle some debts," Jeong Sam-seok said, his gaze shifting toward Myeong Won-san and the others. A thick, palpable killing intent began to radiate from his body.
Myeong Won-san and his cohorts felt their hearts drop. They remembered all too well how they had fervently supported Baek Hae-geum and gone out of their way to harass Jeong Sam-seok earlier.
"Sword Immortal Jeong, we were in the wrong."
"Baek Hae-geum used his status in White Cloud City to coerce us. We had no choice."
"We admit our mistake."
The veteran swordsmen spoke with deflated postures, their arrogance gone. Jeong Sam-seok replied flatly.
Bukjin almost burst out laughing. It was a legendary line. As Jeong Sam-seok continued to press them, a sense of indignation began to bubble up within the elders. They had already swallowed their pride and apologized publicly in front of countless witnesses. They couldn't understand what more he could possibly want.
"Ho-ho, then what exactly does the Sword Immortal wish for?" Yuk Jeong-do asked.
"It seems Sword Immortal Jeong has no intention of accepting our apology. Perhaps we should draw a line here as well," Myeong Won-san added with a cold sneer.
Jeong Sam-seok, his black hair whipping in the wind from his high vantage point, spoke again.
"When Baek Hae-geum attacked Bukjin earlier, you all stood in my way to prevent me from saving him. If Im Jin hadn't intervened in time, my disciple would be dead. That makes you indirect accomplices to murder."
Under the night sky, his eyes flashed with a cold light as sharp as a blade's edge.
"Those who commit murder pay with their lives."
Jeong Sam-seok's voice was crystal clear.
"What?"
"Haha, are you saying you're going to kill us?"
"Ho-ho, Sword Immortal Jeong, you're taking this a bit too far."
The three elders' expressions shifted as they began to laugh derisively. While the strength Jeong Sam-seok had shown was shocking, they weren't truly worried. They all hailed from massive, influential families in major cities. They were in a different league from ordinary experts who had no backing. While they might fear someone like Baek Hae-geum, a Great Master with the weight of White Cloud City behind him, Jeong Sam-seok was merely a discarded disciple of that same city. No matter how strong he was, the idea of him touching members of the great clans was absurd. He had strength, but he had no faction. Thus, his words carried no real threat to them.
Both Jeong Sam-seok and the elders had stripped away their pretenses. The atmosphere, which had briefly softened, plummeted back into a state of extreme tension.
Bukjin looked up at Jeong Sam-seok and felt a subtle shift in his perception.
'Master Jeong has changed.'
The man standing before him was no longer the schoolteacher who patiently endured the antics of his students. With a sword in his hand, he was a Sword Immortal, a tiger capable of devouring anyone in his path.
'Wait... did I influence him to be like this?' Bukjin wondered, rubbing his brow in thought.
A cold night wind swept through the garden. Im Gun-hyeon and his wife, the masters of the manor, remained silent as they had throughout the entire ordeal. But the expressions of the young swordsmen were different. Myeong Nak-cheon and No Pung looked incredibly tense—the three men Jeong Sam-seok had called out were the elders of their respective families. If a fight truly broke out, their own skills would be useless to help.
Among the young swordsmen, the only one who looked calm was the chubby boy, Pa Dae-chwi. He stood there with a rice bowl in one hand and a bottle of liquor in the other, continuously stuffing food into his mouth as if he hadn't a single care in the world. Bukjin found himself wondering how the boy could possibly fit that much food into his stomach.
"Hmph. I don't know how this sacred and solemn Sword Trial turned into such a farce. This old man is leaving!" Yuk Jeong-do declared with a frigid expression. He gave a curt salute and turned to walk away.
Jeong Sam-seok gave a faint, cold smile.
"It seems I haven't drawn my sword in far too long. Many people seem to have forgotten the sharpness this blade once possessed."
The moment he finished speaking, a streak of sword light flashed under the moonlight. Yuk Jeong-do had only managed to take three steps. He froze in place as if turned to stone.
Swish—!
The sound of a blade cutting through the air echoed. A razor-thin red line appeared across Yuk Jeong-do's neck.
Thud!
His head tumbled to the ground. The headless body of Yuk Jeong-do slowly collapsed, blood drenching the earth. The pungent, metallic scent of fresh blood filled the garden.
Everyone present stood frozen, their faces masks of pure shock. They hadn't expected slaughter and death to arrive so suddenly. It was a death that had come with terrifying, silent efficiency.