119
Chapter 119
"Go on, open it."
Mu Hwi stared at the wooden box engraved with the two words: Sim-myeong (心銘), but didn’t open it immediately. Instead, he turned his gaze back to Seong Ju-tae.
After days of forging the sword, Seong Ju-tae had visibly aged, as if he had burned through his very essence. The few remaining black strands near his temples had turned completely white, like freshly fallen snow, and the wrinkles on his forehead and cheeks had deepened.
Since Seong Ju-tae had secluded himself in the workshop during the forging process, this was the first time Mu Hwi was seeing his changed appearance.
"Master Seong, are you alright?"
"Hoho. Of course. My son was worried sick when he saw my face, but honestly, I feel younger than ever."
Perhaps it was the exhilaration of fulfilling the Three Great Iron Workshop’s long-cherished wish with his own hands. Seong Ju-tae’s voice was more vigorous than before. He urged Mu Hwi again.
"Go on, open it."
Mu Hwi lifted the lid of the box.
The moment the Sim-myeong Sword was revealed, Mu-hwa, who had been watching from the side, gasped with sparkling eyes.
"It’s beautiful!"
The scabbard, made of dark steel, was intricately engraved with plum blossom branches, and atop them, a violet plum blossom—symbolizing the Plum Blossom Sword—was delicately inlaid.
The violet blossom on the scabbard shimmered with a subtle purple glow whenever light hit it, as if painted with Jageumsa (Purple Gold Sand).
The same was true for the Geomdong (Sword Guard) and Geomol (Pommel), which connected the hilt to the blade. The overall effect was like gazing at a violet plum blossom blooming in the night.
Unlike the Plum Blossom Sword, which exuded restrained elegance, the Sim-myeong Sword radiated a dazzling yet noble beauty that captivated the eye.
"The Sim-myeong Sword is meant to be passed down as a sacred relic of the Hwasan Sect, so I had no choice but to pay attention to its appearance. But don’t worry—nothing about it hinders combat."
Mu Hwi nodded in agreement. He gripped the sleek, well-balanced scabbard, marveling at its perfect weight, then slowly wrapped his fingers around the jet-black hilt.
The moment his skin touched the grip, his eyebrow twitched slightly.
Despite holding it for the first time, it felt as if it had been in his hand for decades. It was so natural that gripping the Sim-myeong Sword’s hilt felt more comfortable than simply opening his palm.
‘Yes. This is my sword.’
When Mu Hwi drew the blade, even he couldn’t help but be stunned. His eyebrows shot up as a violet light reflected onto his face.
The blade was pitch black—yet it held a strange, transparent clarity. It was as if a piece of the night sky had been hammered into steel.
And within that night sky, a faint purple haze swirled.
The beauty of the blade left even Dokgo Yul and the disciples speechless, their mouths hanging open in awe.
Mu Hwi carefully extended his hand, inspecting the blade before channeling his inner energy and flicking it with his finger.
Ting!
A clear, resonant sound rang out, like the pluck of a zither string. But Mu Hwi wasn’t focused on the sound—he was watching the blade itself.
The sword flexed like a wave, as supple as the Plum Blossom Sword, but the moment it straightened, it displayed the weight and solidity of the Black Iron Greatsword.
The energy imbued in its edge surpassed both the Plum Blossom Sword and the Black Iron Greatsword. The Sim-myeong Sword was a peerless masterpiece, inheriting only the best traits of both.
When Mu Hwi sheathed the sword, the violet glow reflecting on his face faded away.
"How on earth did a sword like this come to be?"
Mu Hwi was the first to regain his composure. Seong Ju-tae smiled proudly, though with a hint of embarrassment.
"Truthfully, I didn’t expect the blade to turn out this color either. Originally, I planned to use Hancheol (寒鐵, Cold Iron) to forge a blade as clear and flawless as the blue sky, then use Jageumsa to make a violet glow swirl within it."
As Mu Hwi listened, he studied the blade’s night-sky hue and suddenly recalled something.
"The Horned Fire Python’s horn."
It wasn’t an exact match, but the horn’s color was nearly identical to the Sim-myeong Sword’s.
"You guessed correctly. During the refining process, I ground the horn into powder and applied it. That’s what changed the blade’s color."
"This is truly astonishing. I’ve only heard of weapons with mystical hues like Shaolin’s Green Jade Buddha Staff or the Peng Clan of Hebei’s Red Fang Blade (赤牙刀)."
Dokgo Yul muttered to himself in amazement, shaking his head.
"Hmm! The Red Fang Blade used by the Peng Clan’s successor will undoubtedly be called a divine weapon a hundred years from now. I hope the same for this Sim-myeong Sword."
As Mu Hwi listened, his eyes traced the characters ‘紫霞心銘 (Jaha Sim-myeong’ clearly engraved near the base of the blade.
Entranced by the sword’s night-sky blade infused with purple haze, Mu Hwi bowed deeply to Seong Ju-tae.
"Thank you, Master Seong."
"I only did what I had to. The rest is up to you now."
Seong Ju-tae gazed at the Sim-myeong Sword in Mu Hwi’s hand as if it were his own child, then turned to Dokgo Yul.
"Now, it’s time to forge your sword. Come with me—I have many questions."
"Understood!"
Dokgo Yul eagerly followed Seong Ju-tae, while Mu-hwa watched with envy.
"I hope the Hancheol Plum Blossom Sword is finished soon."
"He said it’ll only take a few more days. Let’s wait patiently."
Mujin calmly reassured her as she stared at the Sim-myeong Sword.
***
Mu Hwi’s group left the Three Great Iron Workshop and headed toward Hwasan Sect. Behind them trailed a carriage carrying the completed Hancheol Plum Blossom Sword.
"Mu Hwi, thanks to you, I got a fine sword too."
A new heavy sword was strapped to Dokgo Yul’s back. Inspired by the Sim-myeong Sword, he had named it the ‘Ghost Eternal Sword (鬼永劍, Gwiyounggeom)’.
The name carried his vow to forever honor his master, the Sword DevilI. To symbolize this, he had engraved the characters ‘獨孤 (Dokgo)’ onto the blade.
"This Shaanxi trip has been lucky. We trained with the seaweed the turtle gave us, improved our martial arts, and even obtained lifelong companion weapons."
"So, Brother Dokgo, are you leaving Shaanxi now?"
"That’s right. I need to rejoin the Dokgo Association and finish some entrusted requests."
Mu-hwa pouted at his words, but Dokgo Yul, oblivious, grinned at Mu-cheol.
"Next time we meet, let’s properly test whose sword is heavier."
He clapped Mu-cheol’s shoulder, and the latter simply nodded.
As they leisurely traveled, the group suddenly halted. A group of black-clad warriors blocked the road.
One of them glanced at Mu Hwi’s group and spoke.
"Taoists of Hwasan, I apologize, but you cannot pass this way. Please take another route."
"Who are you to block the main road in broad daylight?"
Mujin protested, but the black-clad man ignored him. Instead, the ki (energy) of the thirty or so martial artists around him grew turbulent.
Their stance was clear—if Mu Hwi’s group refused to retreat, they would attack immediately. Mujin scoffed in disbelief.
"Which sect acts so unreasonably?"
Meanwhile, Mu Hwi, who had been silently observing, spoke.
"Assassins are hiding all around us."
At his words, Dokgo Yul and the disciples immediately reached for their weapons. Then, Mu Hwi locked eyes with the black-clad man and asked coldly,
"You’ve trained in Evil Sect (魔功). Are you from the Black Night Palace (黑夜宮)?"
His tone was calm, but the content was shocking.
Dokgo Yul and the disciples jolted in surprise, staring at the black-clad man, whose eyes widened before he shouted,
"Kill them!"
The moment Mu Hwi mentioned Evil Sect and the Black Night Palace, the man abandoned all pretense and revealed his true nature.
At his command, the thirty evil warriors lunged forward.
Simultaneously, dust erupted from the ground as assassins ' faces covered except for their eyes, burst out from hiding.
"You all, protect the carriage and the disciples!"
Mu Hwi shot forward without hesitation.
Now that they had no reason to hide, the evil warriors openly released their Magi (Demonic Energy)—a sinister, unnatural force that defied the laws of heaven.
It had been so long since Mu Hwi had felt such repulsive energy. The veins on the back of his hand bulged as he tightened his grip on the Sim-myeong Sword’s hilt.
"Vermin of the Black Night Palace."
The moment the Sim-myeong Sword was drawn, revealing its night-black blade, a violet flash rained down upon the evil warriors.
Swoosh!
A crescent-shaped sword light surged diagonally, slicing through the air without pause. Every black-clad warrior in its path was cleanly bisected.
The evil warriors were stunned by Mu Hwi’s display of power—yet they didn’t stop charging. If anything, their demonic energy and killing intent only grew stronger.
Mu Hwi found it pathetic.
He didn’t even need to use a sword technique.
With a single horizontal slash, he obliterated the front line. Then, with a diagonal strike, he mowed down the rear.
Crash!
Whether man or weapon, anything touched by the violet arc was severed without exception.
With just three swings of the Sim-myeong Sword, the charging evil warriors fell silent.
‘Why would these demons appear so suddenly?’
Standing amidst the corpses, Mu Hwi expanded his Ki sense to its maximum range.
Like a hawk surveying the land from high above, his senses rapidly absorbed the surrounding situation.
As he scanned the area, his eyebrows twitched.
They were in southern Shaanxi, near Xunyang (旬陽), a remote area bordering Hubei.
And this region was covered in a Heavenly Net—a coordinated ambush formation. At its center, a massive concentration of energy pulsed.
‘So these bastards were guarding one axis of the net.’
Having grasped the situation, Mu Hwi turned around.
Mu-hwa, faster than the assassins, was protecting the Three Great Iron Workshop’s disciples, while Dokgo Yul, Mujin, and Mu-cheol relentlessly unleashed cold sword lights.
Before long, the assassins were all cut down.
"Senior Disciple!"
Mujin called out as he pulled his sword from an assassin’s throat. Mu Hwi spoke.
"The Black Night Palace’s demons have set up a Heavenly Net. They’re targeting someone."
At the mention of the Black Night Palace, everyone’s faces hardened. There wasn’t a single person present who didn’t have a grudge against them.
Though their sudden appearance was puzzling, now wasn’t the time for questions.
"The situation must be urgent. Should we stay here?"
They didn’t know who was trapped in the net, but it was clear someone needed help.
And if that was the case, the faster Mu Hwi—a top-tier expert—acted, the better.
"If we all go, we’ll be too slow. And if the demons steal the carriage, we’ll be in trouble. It’s best if we stay and guard it."
"That makes sense."
Mu-hwa agreed, glancing at the carriage carrying the Hancheol Plum Blossom Sword. Dokgo Yul nodded as well.
"Senior Disciple, go ahead."
At Mu-cheol’s words, Mu Hwi nodded and kicked off toward the center of the Heavenly Net.
With his Ki sense fully expanded, he soared through the air using the Floating Cloud Leap Steps. With every step, the scenery around him blurred.
The path ahead was mostly flatland, dotted with small hills.
And at every key point, evil warriors lay in wait. But Mu Hwi only cut down those directly in his way, ignoring the rest.
Now wasn’t the time to deal with small fry.
‘Tch.’
Even as he moved with the speed of a flying raptor, Mu Hwi didn’t miss the details around him.
The corpses of civilians and beggars—likely passersby who had been slaughtered to prevent word from spreading.
The Black Night Palace had killed every living thing to ensure secrecy.
As Mu Hwi neared the center of the Heavenly Net, a tremendous explosion erupted ahead.
BOOOOM!
The shockwave was so powerful that even Mu Hwi, still far away, felt the ground tremble beneath him.
At the same time, a familiar surge of energy rippled outward.
Recognizing it, Mu Hwi accelerated even faster.
< How could such a sword have been forged? > End
< What’s the point of being the ‘Strongest Fist Under Heaven’? >