Is This Really Kunlun?!
Under Heo Cheong's guidance, Paeng Su-won stepped into Samcheongjeon Hall and scanned the interior.
It was a humble, worn space, hardly befitting the hall where Kunlun's sect leader discussed grave matters with the elders.
Is it because the sect has weakened, or has it always been this way?
Either way, it didn't matter much.
Only true strength counted.
But why are there so few people?
Besides him and Heo Cheong, the vast hall held just two elderly Taoists.
The one seated in the center beamed with a wide, cheerful grin, as if delighted by something.
He must be the sect leader, and the other an elder. Paeng Su-won bowed politely.
"Paeng Su-won of the Hebei Paeng Clan greets the sect leader and elder."
As expected, the central elder replied.
"Hoho, welcome. I am Un Jeok, the one entrusted with leading Kunlun."
Then the pale-faced elder added his greeting.
"A pleasure. I am Un Hu."
At the name Un Hu, Paeng Su-won's eyes widened slightly.
The head of the Kunlun Three Saints, True Man Un Hu? They say his dantian was shattered slaying the Great Demonic Butcher of the Western Frontier... He does look frail.
Un Hu was renowned throughout the jianghu as a true sage.
As Heo Cheong's master and a friend of Paeng Su-won's, he'd heard much about him—but seeing the man in person felt fresh and new.
His words and demeanor grew even more respectful.
"It is an honor to meet you both."
"Haha, such words are too kind for old men like us."
"How could you say that..."
"It's fine, it's fine. Surprised by how few people there are? They'll arrive soon—make yourself comfortable."
A few more rounds of polite exchange followed, but awkwardness soon settled in.
Who opens their heart to strangers so quickly?
But Paeng Su-won was a man of quick wit.
"There was a major incident in Shaanxi Province recently..."
"...Oh ho, is that so?"
From the mouth of this remote Kunlun elder flowed tales of jianghu events hard to come by in such isolation.
The sect leader listened intently, and even Un Hu, who sat with an otherworldly serenity, leaned in with rapt attention—
Bang!
The doors of Samcheongjeon flew open, and a flood of elderly Taoists poured in.
Exhausted and disheveled from grueling training, their eyes nonetheless burned with fierce light.
Why?
Because their guest had mercifully ended the torment early.
"Taoism supreme! Warrior among warriors! From the Hebei Paeng Clan!"
"Welcome! A true delight!"
"Hah! I can tell at a glance—you're the talent to lead the jianghu!"
Some shot sharp glares at the sect leader.
"Have you been well, Sect Leader? You look remarkably at ease."
"Ahem. Ahem. It wasn't by my choice that you dove into training."
"Pardon? I didn't catch that."
Amid the boisterous elders, a flustered Paeng Su-won managed greetings one by one before calming them.
But their sweat-stink was another matter—he had to breathe through his mouth.
Ugh. Things are finally improving a bit.
Then the doors opened again, and a horde of haggard Heo-generation Taoists rushed in.
Naturally, they welcomed Paeng Su-won with equal fervor.
"An honor to meet the famed Heavy Flow Blade!"
"What a hero! Truly lives up to the reputation!"
"Haha! The Primordial Heavenly Venerable has blessed Kunlun with Great Hero Paeng!"
Paeng Su-won's face paled by degrees.
The barely contained stench of sweat assaulted him anew.
Urk.
Sensing his distress, the sect leader cut to the chase.
"We've enjoyed your tales. So, what brings you to this distant place?"
Paeng Su-won shook off his daze.
This was the crucial part.
"Two reasons."
"Two? Speak."
"First, to witness Kunlun's martial arts firsthand."
As puzzled looks spread, Heo Cheong chuckled beside him.
"Haha, you could have just asked me."
"Our friendship would prevent a proper demonstration."
"Proper?"
"With true sword and true blade, in real combat."
"Well, of course..."
Heo Cheong trailed off, eyeing Paeng Su-won.
Among their peers, true weapon spars were standard—not mere forms, but life-like bouts.
Stroking his beard thoughtfully, the sect leader asked,
"The second reason ties to the first, I presume."
"...Regrettably, yes."
Samcheongjeon erupted in chatter.
"Well, now."
"He's here to test our core disciples, isn't he?"
Not wrong, so Paeng Su-won bowed deeply to the Kunlun Taoists, as humbly as possible.
"It's a grave matter—please don't misunderstand."
Even he felt a pang of guilt saying it.
If someone came to the Paeng Clan with such words?
Swords would clash on the spot, and no one would bat an eye.
But his worries were unfounded.
Ordinary folk might see it as provocation, but the Kunlun Taoists' cultivated poise seemed unshakable.
They reacted calmly... or rather, oddly.
"Sect Leader, accept."
"Perfect opponent from one of the Seven Great Clans."
"I'll step up."
"Hey, junior brother. Let me."
"What are you all doing? I'm ready—rest easy."
The elders jostled forward, turning Samcheongjeon into chaos.
They yearned to test the fruits of their hellish training, pierced through the nose by Jeong Gwang.
Clueless to this, Paeng Su-won blinked in bewilderment.
Finally, the sect leader barked softly,
"Enough! What disgrace before a guest?"
"Will the Sect Leader step up?"
"Ahem. The guest would laugh."
Calming the elders, the sect leader asked Paeng Su-won slyly,
"Would someone of my level suffice?"
Murmurs criticized the sect leader, but he fixed on Paeng Su-won.
"...How could I presume. Someone of my generation, perhaps."
"In earnest?"
"...Of course."
With a deep sigh, the sect leader scanned the Heo generation.
"Who will it be?"
The Heo Taoists, who'd been holding their breath, shot up hands.
"I humbly volunteer!"
"Hey! Junior brother looks unwell—rest."
"Senior brother, your legs are shaking."
"Enough. The Sect Leader watches this lowly one."
Burning to test their revamped arts, the Heo generation devolved into mayhem again.
Watching with a sour face, the sect leader turned to Un Hu.
Senior brother, who do you think?
Un Hu smiled faintly, gazing at someone.
Spotting the target, the sect leader nodded inwardly.
As expected of senior brother. Perfect, just perfect.
Raising a hand silenced the room. All eyes fixed on him.
"Heo Jik. You."
The one man not volunteering, Heo Jik, blinked in shock.
"Me?"
"Hoho. Who else named Heo Jik is here?"
"Forgive my impertinence."
Heo Jik stepped forward and bowed to Paeng Su-won.
"Heo Jik. My meager skills seek your instruction."
Paeng Su-won sized him up swiftly.
A stiff, stubborn-looking Taoist. No standout aura.
Heo Jik fit the archetype perfectly, so Paeng Su-won wasn't off.
"Paeng Su-won. I look forward to it."
They drew sword and blade, assuming stances.
Heo Jik, eh. Chosen by the sect leader—must have some skill.
Paeng Su-won circulated his inner energy, watching closely.
Meanwhile, Heo Jik, obeying orders, was still baffled.
Why me?
So many eager seniors and juniors—why?
And among the Heo generation, his skills ranked low.
Then Paeng Su-won spoke.
"Forgive the rudeness, but let's spar without naming arts or forms."
"...Fine by me."
Stray thoughts vanished.
A brash boy's voice echoed instead.
'Why shout it out in a fight?'
'Huff. Huff. It's etiquette.'
'The goal is victory—etiquette? Then yielding would be polite.'
'How dare you. I'll report this to my senior brother.'
'Master's lying over there.'
'Gasp! Senior brother! Already collapsed from exhaustion?'
Heo Jik shook his head inwardly.
Why dredge up nonsense now?
Suddenly, Paeng Su-won's grip twitched faintly.
His feet instinctively shifted into Dragon Form Stance.
Shiiik—
Dodging the clean overhead slash with a dragon's serpentine twist, he elegantly thrust his sword at one point.
Paeng Su-won's shoulder.
'Dragon Form Stance, dragon form. Not straight-line speed— like a dragon cresting a ridge... Wait, that's a python? Anyway, curve your steps.'
'Fine, but why unfold Taecheong Dragon Form Sword like that?'
'Stabbing fast like Great Uncle does? No one falls for it—too obvious. Looks flashy, but the big arc has purpose. Our founder didn't do it for show.'
'Still, that footwork and swordplay makes it easy to dodge.'
'Huh? Easy?'
Jeong Gwang's cocky grin flashed in Heo Jik's mind.
'Unless way stronger than you, they'll scramble back.'
And sure enough—
"Gasp!"
Paeng Su-won exhaled sharply, retreating swiftly.
Heo Jik's jaw slackened in surprise.
Yet he followed Jeong Gwang's teachings faithfully.
'When Senior Brother Heo retreated earlier, you should've chased with Thunderbolt Step, not Dragon Form.'
His form elongated like lightning, surging at Paeng Su-won.
'Opponent swings while backing? No power. Steel yourself for a hit and thrust beautifully. It won't reach—unless it's a spear.'
Luckily, Paeng Su-won wielded a blade. Heo Jik thrust flawlessly.
Clang!
"Urk!"
Blocking desperately, Paeng Su-won staggered back another step. His eyes deepened.
Not full power, yet pushed back!
Opponent held back too!
At this rate, staining the clan— he surged inner energy, unleashing a storm of blade strikes.
The Hebei Paeng Clan's signature: Geon-gon Yeon-hwan Tal-baek-do!
Onlooking Kunlun Taoists gasped.
"Ooh! As expected of the Paeng Clan!"
"Such ferocious linked strikes!"
"Not mere brute force—each flows into greater power."
"Heavy Flow Blade earns its name!"
Praising Paeng Clan and Paeng Su-won, yet their hearts swelled with pride in reborn Kunlun arts.
Behold! Stiff Heo Jik stepping gracefully!
Feel! Rigid Heo Jik unleashing stylish forms!
And not just stylish—powerful too!
Heo Jik's heart mirrored theirs.
Forced by sect leader and Un Hu to train Jeong Gwang's changes, doubts lingered: right path? Weaker? Demonic deviation? How face the founder?
But no.
Even rigid he felt electric thrill.
Heavy Flow Blade, was it? Quite the reputation.
He'd heard tales, even from Heo Cheong.
Dominating such a master unilaterally.
Oh no.
Chill swept his blood.
Familiar sensation.
'Uncle, fight's not over—don't slack.'
'B-but it's almost...'
'Almost? Beat till they drop.'
'B-beat? I use a sword.'
'Then thrust!'
Mind sharpened.
His form flashed, unleashing dazzling swordplay.
Paeng Su-won's eyes shook wildly.
So flashy, elegant, stylish—and powerful! Is this really Kunlun?!
Conversely, sect leader and Un Hu gazed at Heo Jik with paternal affection.
Good call following senior brother's lead.
Let go of doubts. Our path is true.
One thought united them.
This is true Kunlun.
Since reincarnating into Kunlun, Jeong Gwang had changed much—but some things stayed the same.
Human hearts are curious: set on something, then flip on a whim.
Jeong Gwang was exactly that now.
"...How did you know?"
He answered Paeng Gang-hwi's question curtly.
"Lucky guess?"
"...Sigh. My fault first, so no blame. Farewell."
Seeing Paeng Gang-hwi bow and turn like a drenched puppy, veins bulged on Jeong Gwang's forehead.
Not some kicked pup— one prank and he mopes?
Seemed spirited before. This dense?
"Argh, seriously. No spine in a man."
"...What was that?"
p>"No spine."
"Can't agree."
"Oh? Then ask with spine."
Shaking his head, Paeng Gang-hwi asked again.
"No shame left, but you insist."
"Sure."
"...Sigh. Set aside how you knew my request. How'd you unblock my stagnant qi?"
"It showed."
"...You expect me to believe that?"
Jeong Gwang was baffled.
What's with the tone, the face?
Misheard?
Spell it out, syllable by syllable.
"It. Was. Obvious."