158
Chapter 158: This Is Why I Will Conquer the Martial Arts World.
Chamdan.
Chamdan lived up to its name—many parts of the mountain range appeared as though a giant sword had sliced through them, leaving sheer cliffs and deep ravines in its wake. The chaotic, jagged terrain earned it the name Chamdan.
As a result, rather than the typical peaks one might expect when climbing a mountain, visitors to Chamdan were far more likely to encounter towering cliffs and deep gorges.
"The depth of these cliffs is no less than those of Hwasan."
Mu Hwi gazed at the bottomless abyss below and the bridge spanning the chasm.
From the other side, a man emerged and swiftly crossed the bridge. Despite the massive sword slung over his shoulder—impossible to miss—his steps were steady, not causing the slightest tremor in the bridge.
Mu Hwi clicked his tongue briefly as he observed Dokgo Yul, who, though covered in blood, still seemed relatively unharmed. The moment Dokgo Yul spotted Mu Hwi, he immediately leaped forward, landing in the middle of the bridge.
"How did you get here? Ouch—!"
Dokgo Yul yelped as Mu Hwi suddenly kicked him in the shin, making him jump in surprise.
Seeing Dokgo Yul grinning like a fool even in the midst of danger, Mu Hwi couldn’t help but lash out.
‘Does he not value his life at all? …No, wait—did I teach him this? Hmm…’
Lost in thought, Mu Hwi sighed as he watched Dokgo Yul clutching his shin with a pained expression.
"I came to rescue you. Where are the other Cheongseong Sect disciples?"
Dokgo Yul’s face stiffened as he shook his head. Mu Hwi nodded in understanding before sensing a new presence.
"They’re coming again."
There was no time for a proper reunion. Dokgo Yul immediately readied himself for battle, and Mu Hwi turned his back on him.
From behind, a swarm of warriors from the Paewangseong rushed toward them.
"Oh? We came to cut off the retreat of the Arang Sword, but it seems we have a guest."
From among the warriors, a middle-aged man stepped forward. Though Mu Hwi had never seen him in this life, he recognized him instantly.
"Mingsagun."
Mingsagun, now the sole survivor of the Ohmu Group after even the Poison Dragon of Sacheon had died, seemed intrigued that Mu Hwi recognized him immediately.
"The Sword Saint of Hwasan recognizes me? What an honor. Allow me to introduce myself properly—Mingsagun of the Ohmu Group."
Mingsagun raised his fists in a polite greeting, but Mu Hwi simply stared at him blankly. With a quiet sigh, Mingsagun lowered his hands.
"I first heard of you during the incident with the Daejeong Sect, but I never expected you to earn the title of Sword Saint so quickly."
"Sounds like you’re saying you should’ve killed me before I grew stronger."
"Haha, is that so?"
Mingsagun chuckled before glancing between Mu Hwi and Dokgo Yul, his eyes gleaming.
"Ah! There’s someone I’d like to introduce. Come forth—Agent 107."
At his command, a black-clad figure emerged, covered head to toe except for his eyes.
A man referred to not by name, but by number.
Agent 107, dressed in black, had the physique of a boy still in his growing years.
"Remove your mask."
When Agent 107 took off his mask, Mu Hwi’s eyes narrowed. The face was familiar—one he had seen many times before.
Noticing Mu Hwi’s reaction, Mingsagun nodded in satisfaction.
"Do you remember? The son of the Daejeong Sect's fallen leader, once known as the Southern Region’s Greatest Prodigy. Ga Se-in. After the Bloodshed Clan collapsed, he trained in the Castle’s Killing Star Hall."
Mu Hwi nodded.
Though hardship had hardened his features, the boy’s facial structure was unmistakable.
"That’s the brat who pissed himself."
"Who is he?"
Dokgo Yul, curious, asked from the side, but Mu Hwi ignored him.
Unlike his defeat in the duel against Myeong San, the current Ga Se-in—now called Agent 107—had fully embraced the path of an assassin.
"I had planned to send him to Hwasan to assassinate that brat—what was his name? Im Sanha? Now called Myeong San, I believe. Pity it didn’t work out."
Mu Hwi scoffed as he observed Ga Se-in’s emotionless eyes.
"With that level of skill? Against Myeong San? Don’t make me laugh. If he doesn’t wet himself again, it’ll be a miracle."
At the mention of Myeong San, a flicker of emotion finally surfaced in Ga Se-in’s eyes.
The same suppressed killing intent as any other assassin.
As Mu Hwi’s lips curled in disdain, Mingsagun placed a hand on Ga Se-in’s head.
"What do you think? Thanks to you, a promising young talent of the orthodox sects lost his parents and his sect, only to become one of our assassins. Quite the twist of fate, isn’t it?"
Mu Hwi smirked.
"Your stalling tactics are too clumsy. Did you really think I’d feel guilty for destroying the Daejeong Sect?"
At Mu Hwi’s words, Mingsagun subtly tightened his grip behind his back. Even if he and his men attacked together now, they stood no chance of survival.
‘This brat is sharp.’
He had hoped to buy time for the Castle Lord, who had just arrived at Chamdan, but Mu Hwi had seen through it too quickly.
"You…"
Mingsagun opened his mouth to retort but suddenly clamped it shut, his breath turning ragged.
Mu Hwi, who had been standing far away just moments ago, was now right in front of him. He hadn’t even seen him move—such terrifying speed.
"Ghk—!"
Feeling the cold edge of a sword against his neck, Mingsagun desperately reached out. He managed to grab the blade of the Sim-myeong Sword as it pressed horizontally against his throat, but despite his full-strength grip, the sword inched closer, blood dripping from his sliced palms.
‘This bastard is toying with me.’
Mingsagun realized—Mu Hwi could have beheaded him instantly, yet he was deliberately moving the sword slowly.
The fact that he had even managed to grab the blade was only because Mu Hwi allowed it.
Mu Hwi twisted the sword slightly.
"Fitting for a snake—wagging your sly tongue until the very end."
"What are you all doing?!"
Mingsagun screamed at his subordinates in desperation, but the warriors of the Paewangseong stood frozen under the crushing pressure of Mu Hwi’s aura.
"Hwasan Sword Saint! Wait!"
Mu Hwi didn’t wait. With a single motion, he severed Mingsagun’s head.
For a man who had once been renowned as part of the Ohmu Group, it was an anticlimactic end.
Mu Hwi retracted his aura and turned to Ga Se-in, who was staring at Mingsagun’s fallen body.
"That killing intent earlier—it wasn’t directed at me. You were thinking of Myeong San, weren’t you?"
Ga Se-in’s expression, previously blank, twisted into something vicious.
"Of course! Im Sanha—that bastard! I’ll kill him! Because of him…!"
Ga Se-in’s voice was thick with hatred, his eyes burning with murderous intent. Seeing this, Mu Hwi made his decision.
"You dare target my disciple?"
WHAM!
Mu Hwi’s foot slammed into Ga Se-in’s stomach, bending his body like a shrimp. The sound of something shattering echoed from Ga Se-in’s abdomen.
CRACK!
Ga Se-in didn’t even have time to scream before he was sent flying, crashing through a tree and disappearing into the forest. Mu Hwi’s kick held no mercy.
At the very least, his dantian would be destroyed, rendering him powerless. If luck was against him, he’d be dead on impact.
Seeing Ga Se-in sent flying, the warriors of the Paewangseong belatedly rushed toward Mu Hwi—but then, a low voice tore through the air from behind.
"Stand down."
A towering figure clad in a red robe strode forward, his mere presence exuding overwhelming pressure.
Despite the distance, the surrounding plants withered helplessly in his walk, making the Paewangseong warriors seem even more colossal.
The smile vanished from Dokgo Yul’s face as he watched the scene unfold.
"We greet the Castle Lord!"
The warriors of the Paewangseong bowed in unison before quickly retreating.
Now, only three remained—Mu Hwi, Dokgo Yul, and the Paewangseong Lord. Around them, the howling winds from the cliff’s depths whipped at their clothes.
"For the two of you, the Ohmu Group is no more. I doubt they ever imagined it would end like this. The ways of the martial arts world are truly unpredictable."
"You could’ve saved Mingsagun."
When Mu Hwi had pressed his sword against Mingsagun’s throat, he had already sensed the Paewangseong Lord’s presence.
Had the Paewangseong Lord wished it, he could have intervened.
"If Mingsagun had fought you like a true warrior of the Ohmu Group instead of wasting his breath, he might have lived."
The Paewangseong Lord glanced at Mingsagun’s headless corpse before continuing.
"Do you think the Ohmu Group rose to prominence by only fighting weaklings? No. They faced martial artists stronger than themselves time and again, and overcame them. That’s why they earned their name."
But Mingsagun had changed.
The Paewangseong Lord didn’t know the exact reason, nor did he care to find out. The price of change was always paid by the one who changed.
Stepping forward, the Paewangseong Lord looked down at the corpse.
"As the times change, so too does the Ohmu Group. Their blades grew dull—no reason to keep them close."
His gaze was cold, though something unreadable lurked beneath.
Without hesitation, the Paewangseong Lord turned his attention to Mu Hwi and Dokgo Yul.
One was the disciple of the Sword Devil. The other was a swordsman of Hwasan, bearing the same eyes as the late Sword Devil.
The Ohmu Group, once the pillars of the Paewangseong, were gone. The Sword Devil, once the Castle’s greatest enemy, was no more.
In their place stood the next generation—young talents now facing the Paewangseong Lord himself. Once again, he felt the rapid shifts of the era.
"Too busy climbing upward to notice those rising from below."
The Paewangseong Lord muttered to himself before an overwhelming aura erupted from his body like a storm.
His long hair and red robe billowed wildly.
"Do you know why I seek to conquer the martial arts world?"
Mu Hwi and Dokgo Yul remained silent. Neither knew the true answer.
"What’s the reason?"
As Mu Hwi asked, the Paewangseong Lord recalled the countless martial artists he had encountered.
The Paewangseong Lord’s ambition.
It wasn’t for mere glory or vanity, to leave a mark in history.
The martial arts world was a place where countless masters could vanish overnight, only for new ones to rise in their place.
The Paewangseong Lord was part of that world, but at some point, a thought had struck him.
This martial arts world had nurtured him. But could he, in turn, contain the martial arts world itself?
Could his vessel hold the boundless martial arts world and all its warriors?
The question had become a challenge—the beginning of the man called the Paewangseong Lord.
Now, facing two of the martial arts world’s rising stars, he spoke with conviction.
"This is why I will conquer it."
No matter how many masters emerged, new ones would always follow.
This endlessly vast and vibrant martial arts world—the Paewangseong Lord wanted to see if he could contain it within himself.
Even if his vessel shattered in the attempt.
CRACK!
The Paewangseong Lord took a single step forward.
The ground split beneath his feet as crimson energy coiled around his arms like threads.
As the aura of the Heaven-Sundering Divine Palm began to manifest, Mu Hwi and Dokgo Yul exchanged a glance.
Mu Hwi stepped forward, sword at the ready, while Dokgo Yul retreated into the forest.
"Hmph."
Mu Hwi flicked the blood off his blade and lowered the Sim-myeong Sword diagonally, letting out a short laugh.
Facing the Paewangseong Lord’s monstrous aura, he realized one thing.
This was a crisis.
Though he had glimpsed the Absolute Realm, he hadn’t fully reached it.
While martial arts battles weren’t solely decided by realm differences, the gap between the Transcendent Realm and the Absolute Realm was insurmountable.
At best, he was lingering at the threshold—bridging that gap depended entirely on his own skill.
Yet, Mu Hwi felt no fear.
‘This feeling—this sensation.’
The thrill of pitting his martial arts against an insurmountable force. The razor’s edge between life and death is in every movement.
As a martial artist, standing on the brink of death didn’t frighten him.
The Paewangseong Lord, observing the violet light intensifying in Mu Hwi’s eyes, was once again reminded of the Sword Devil.
Mu Hwi steadied his racing heart and took his stance. The Paewangseong Lord slowly raised his hand.
From behind a tree, Dokgo Yul watched, teeth gritted.
‘Damn it. If only I’d reached the Transcendent Realm…’
He wouldn’t be standing here, forced to watch from a distance. He’d be fighting alongside Mu Hwi.
But as he was now—barely at the Peak Master level—he’d only be a hindrance.
‘If I help, it’ll only be at the decisive moment. And even then, I’ll have to stake my life.’
The glance they had shared earlier was clear—Mu Hwi would buy time, and Dokgo Yul was to escape.
But Dokgo Yul couldn’t do that.
Unless Mu Hwi could win—and no matter how he looked at it, surviving against the Paewangseong Lord seemed impossible.
Even if Mu Hwi had slain Absolute Realm masters before, the Paewangseong Lord was on an entirely different level.
"Huu…"
Dokgo Yul focused, circulating his inner energy to sharpen his vision.
The Dokgo Sword Technique emphasized visual acuity and footwork above all else, more so than sword techniques themselves.
Having trained under his master and the Sword Saint since childhood, and having observed countless masters across the martial arts world, Dokgo Yul was confident in his visual prowess, comparable to even the greatest experts.
His glowing eyes tracked every movement as Mu Hwi and the Paewangseong Lord clashed.
‘Ghk—!’
Blood vessels bulged in Dokgo Yul’s eyes.
Merely keeping up with their movements drained his energy and mental focus. Yet, he pushed himself further.
Just as Mu Hwi had come for him, Dokgo Yul couldn’t abandon Mu Hwi.
In his pupils, dozens of violet trajectories intertwined with a single crimson line.
BOOOOM!
The collision of the two Absolute Realm masters shook the gorge violently. The shockwaves carved fresh scars into Chamdan.