The Secret of the Blunt Sword

"Yun Cheon staked every last one of his tokens on his own victory. I trust you all know that he called all five of today's matches correctly?"

Yu Ha's declaration poured oil onto the already-roaring flames.

"Whooooaa!"

A roar erupted, loud enough to swallow even the sound of the waterfall.

"How many tokens is that? Look at that pile!"

"Well, well… this just got interesting!"

"This is the biggest pot ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of the night matches yet!"

Mist drifted up from the crackling bonfire, and the fevered excitement of the cadets heated the damp air until it steamed.

A match where a maximum of ten tokens could be wagered had, in an instant, swelled into a proper gambling den several times that size.

"So… who's going to step up for the Muk Family?"

The moment Yu Ha asked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with feigned innocence, every noise on the grounds died as though someone had cut the sound with a blade.

Every gaze swung naturally toward where the Muk family's cohort stood.

The branch-family cohorts had long since been played for fools by Yun Cheon once already.

Caught between wanting to strike back and fearing another humiliation, they could only hang their heads in silence.

"Useless worms… all of them!"

Muk Ha-jin ground his teeth.

Branch family or not, the Muk was still the Muk.

A scion of the main line, forced to swallow the humiliation of being shattered by some beggar's brat under our own family's name—outrageous enough to make blood boil a thousand times over.

He had intended to mobilize the branch families in force to seize the upper hand in the Hidden Demon Cave, but ever since Yun Cheon had shredded the branch cohorts, even that had grown difficult.

And now the matter would be settled in a sanctioned duel with real stakes on the table.

This was no longer simply a matter of pride.

"Can't even handle one piece of gutter trash!"

At the very instant Muk Ha-jin moved to step forward himself—

"Begging your pardon, Young Master."

A low, chilling voice sounded behind him, and a hand closed around his shoulder.

"Young Master Ha-jin, why would you use an ox-slaughtering blade to catch a chicken? Allow me to dispose of him."

He was right.

For the main-line heir of the Serpent Scorpion Muk Family to step in at all was, in itself, already an insult.

Only by settling things at the branch-family level could the Serpent Scorpion name claw back its dignity.

"…Muk Wi-jin! Yes… of course. You're here!"

Muk Wi-jin belonged to the branch family, but there was something about him that set him apart from the other cohorts from the very start.

He gave a short nod, then slipped onto the training ground as silently as a shadow.

Yayul Hui swallowed without realizing it.

That one… he's called the finest of the Serpent Scorpion branch families! I heard that in raw talent alone, he doesn't yield even to the main-line Muk Ha-jin…!

Every pair of eyes on the grounds fixed on the two men.

Yu Ha, as if he'd been waiting for exactly this, introduced the match with grandiose gestures.

"And now, the supreme stage to crown tonight's finale! First, the hidden fang of the Serpent Scorpion Muk Family—the inheritor of the Serpent Scorpion Exploding Scale Fist! Muk Wi-jin!"

Crack, crack—

As the introduction rang out, Muk Wi-jin twisted his neck side to side, and an unsettling chorus of popping bones rolled across the grounds.

Yu Ha stretched his hand ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠toward the opposite side.

"And his opponent! The gambler who appeared at the night matches like a comet and read every board correctly—the question is whether his eye carries over to his fists! The mysterious boy clad in iron rings… Yun Cheon!"

Barely had the introductions ended before analysis and prediction burst from the crowd of cadets like water from a broken dam.

"It's Muk Wi-jin! The best of the branch families is stepping up himself!"

"The tragic genius born into a branch line!"

"Honestly, given that he came from the branch, his raw talent might even outstrip Muk Ha-jin's…."

Wi-jin's reputation had long echoed even within the Hidden Demon Cave.

The rumors about Yun Cheon, however, ran in exactly the opposite direction.

"Isn't that the thief who lucked into the Supreme tier on day one thanks to Instructor Jeok Mu-gwang?"

"Call it what you will, he's still the bottom of the ranks. Facing one of the Twelve Guardian Families? Not a chance."

"Not a chance? He won't even lay a finger on him. I'm putting my last tokens on Muk Wi-jin! This one match—I'll win back everything I lost earlier!"

In moments, the wagers piled overwhelmingly onto Muk Wi-jin's side.

Nearly everyone bet on his victory.

Confirming his superiority in the mountain of stacked tokens, Wi-jin turned to Yun Cheon with an arrogant sneer.

"I won't be like the scraps you dealt with before. Those boys were nothing but the dregs of the dregs of the Muk branch family—"

"Is that so, being the Serpent Scorpion Muk Family? You certainly have a snake's tongue."

Yun Cheon cut his sentence off mid-hem, and Wi-jin's face flushed mottled red.

"Why, you—!"

Just then, Yu Ha stepped smoothly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠between them.

"Now, now… the duel doesn't start yet. Let's settle the wagers first."

He glanced from the mountain of tokens beside Wi-jin to the pitiful handful laid on Yun Cheon's side, and let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Ahh, look at this… the odds are hopelessly lopsided! At this rate, the match won't be any fun at all."

Just as Yu Ha said, only a handful of cadets—including Yayul Hui—had staked their tokens on Yun Cheon.

Then, as though making some enormous resolution, he drew out the heavy pouch of tokens he had set aside for himself.

"Very well! To heat this pot up properly, this Yu Ha shall personally add to the stakes!"

Before everyone's eyes, Yu Ha poured an entire mound of tokens onto Yun Cheon's side.

"There. Surely that gets us to roughly one-to-one?"

Even so, the tokens riding on Wi-jin were still ten times as many.

To those who had bet on Wi-jin, Yu Ha's added stake merely looked like a fatter herd of prey to be divided up among them.

At last, Yu Ha squared the two fighters against each other and shouted:

"Begin!"

The instant the signal fell, Wi-jin's new form bored into the ground like a venomous serpent skimming across stone.

On both his hands sat scale gauntlets etched with the strange, sinuous pattern of serpent scales.

Shhhhhish!

With a razor-sharp whistling of air, his fist drove toward Yun Cheon's upper body.

Yun Cheon retreated a half step.

But his movement was noticeably sluggish.

It looked as though the weight of the iron rings dragged at his ankles, each step teetering on the edge of collapse.

"Heh heh, so he resorts to the reckless madness of wearing iron rings. Pathetic! Though it suits us just fine."

"That hunk of steel is strangling him after all! At this rate he's nothing but prey for Muk Wi-jin!"

Wi-jin pressed his assault relentlessly.

Yun Cheon barely slipped his attacks or blocked them, seeming to do nothing more than scramble to survive.

Thwack! Thud-dud!

He was driven back several steps at a time, the ragged hem of his clothes shredding beneath the sharp fist-wind.

To any observer, it was a picture of total inferiority.

"Press him harder, Muk Wi-jin!"

"That's it, Wi-jin! Show that punk what you're made of, and take back our tokens!"

Cadets led by Muk Ha-jin rained down jeers.

Yayul Hui clenched her fists without thinking.

What's wrong with him…? His movements are more awkward than usual…!

She fretted anxiously—until a strange dissonance in Yun Cheon's movements caught her eye.

Has he not fully adapted to the weight of the iron rings yet? To enter a duel in that state… reckless!

Yu Ha, on the other hand, was seeing straight through everything.

An intrigued smile played at the corner of his mouth.

Yun Cheon's aiming for something. But Muk Wi-jin is no man to take lightly just because he's weighed down by iron rings….

Even the cadets cheering for Yun Cheon were nearing the limits of their patience. That was how badly he was losing.

Muk Wi-jin, is it… he's genuinely formidable. The strongest opponent I've crossed since arriving in this place.

The Yun Cheon of the past would have already taken the man's head ten times over.

But now was different.

Merely tracking Wi-jin's speed was a struggle.

The weight of the iron rings pressed down not just on his ankles but across his entire body.

And if I cannot be faster than my opponent—?

In that instant, lightning struck through his mind.

Of course… the essence of the Limitless Step was never speed.

It was not the fastest path—it was the step that claimed the most fitting ground.

A footwork art that demanded not swift footwork but insight into space itself.

Discard the subtlety of swiftness….

The overwhelming speed of his swift sword had defined who he was in his previous life.

And Yun Cheon set it down completely, within his heart.

Because only then could he see a new path that had been hidden from him.

A sword that subdued an opponent without being fast.

The secret of the blunt sword—dominion over space itself.

…So with this wretched body, I come to grasp a secret of the sword I never once glimpsed in my past life.

It was the sword most distant from the Yun Cheon of his past life, who had been the greatest swift-sword master of Kunlun.

No—perhaps it was precisely because of this body that I could finally understand it.

In his past life, when Yun Cheon wished to be fast, he was faster than anyone; when he wished to cut, he cut.

The paradox born of innate talent.

He had never managed to master the secret of the blunt sword—moving slower than one's opponent while reading every motion and claiming space itself.

launching after. To move late, yet arrive first.

Yun Cheon had always solved it through extreme speed.

After all, if you're simply faster than the rest, the question answers itself.

But the Limitless Step was a footwork art that dominated space without ever moving faster than one's opponent.

And that was exactly why its secret ran so deep—so deep, in fact, that it had been undervalued as a mere foundational art.

A faint gleam of excitement flashed across Yun Cheon's eyes.

Even now… I can break through to new martial learning, and take up a new sword. How could one not be stirred?

Before anything else, he was a swordsman who had devoted his entire life to the blade.

And with that realization, and the joy that came flooding with it, Yun Cheon's movements transformed utterly.

The new form that had wobbled unsteadily beneath the crushing weight now glided like flowing water.

What is this? That guy who was stumbling around chasing my speed just moments ago… his bearing has changed completely!

He no longer retreated in time with Wi-jin's attacks.

Slick.

Just a half step.

As though he had been standing in that spot from the very beginning, his body slid like water finding its course.

WHAM—!

Wi-jin's fist hammered the space where Yun Cheon had stood a heartbeat before, beating nothing but empty air.

"What…! I didn't connect?"

For the first time, bewilderment flickered across Wi-jin's eyes.

He swung his fists again, ferociously.

But the result was the same.

With the smallest possible movements, Yun Cheon reduced every attack to nothing.

What is this? This filthy feeling…! He's right in front of me, but my fist won't touch him!

Wi-jin rained down attacks like a madman.

But he did not realize it.

He did not realize that he was not pressing Yun Cheon at all—that he was being made to dance along an invisible path Yun Cheon had laid out for him.

Yun Cheon's inner world was cold as a sheet of ice.

Yes, come deeper. The moment you commit to your killing blow, that opening will only grow wider.

Wi-jin was a giant sinking into a swamp.

And the more he thrashed, the deeper he sank beyond recovery.

Question after question surged through his mind.

That frail wretch should fall to a single blow…! So why… why won't it land?

Then Yun Cheon deliberately slipped, exposing an opening.

Just as he had against Jang Dae-san in their sparring match.

The instant he caught the gap, Wi-jin's eyes gleamed with greed.

"There it is! It ends now, you trash!"

He hurled the greatest technique of the Serpent Scorpion Exploding Scale Fist at full power—the Exploding Scale Strike.

His fist shot toward Yun Cheon's face.

He took the bait.

All this while, deliberately exposing his own openings, Yun Cheon had been luring him into throwing one massive, heavy blow.

Now!

Rather than dodging the incoming fist, he simply placed one of his iron rings—with exact timing—where his face had been.

But the result of that soft, almost gentle movement was carnage.

CRUNCH!

What burst out alongside the dull, sickening impact was not Yun Cheon's cry of pain.

"GRAAAAAGH!"

It was the wretched scream of his attacker, Muk Wi-jin.

The horrible sound of bone shattering as his fist collided head-on with steel pierced clean through the roar of the waterfall.

Before everyone's eyes, Wi-jin's fist twisted at a grotesque angle.

"My… my hand!"

Wi-jin clutched his crushed fist, writhing in agony.

His eyes brimmed with tears—and with a terror that could not accept the reality before him.

Losing all reason, he flung himself forward with his one remaining arm and his legs, swinging wildly.

"I'll kill you!"

Yun Cheon, as if he had been waiting for exactly this, rotated his body along the direction of the charge.

Rooting his lower body into the earth by the principle of the Heaven and Earth Moving Art, he made the weight of the iron rings his own axis—and spun.

Wi-jin's fist grazed past Yun Cheon's rotation by the breadth of a single sheet of paper.

Swish—.

What—?

Toward the opening he had left utterly exposed, an explosive Blood Wind Leg came crashing down.

BOOOOM—!

Yun Cheon's kick, carrying the added weight of the iron rings, was like a colossal siege ram.

Not even a scream escaped.

Wi-jin's massive frame flew like a sheet of paper and slammed into a boulder at the edge of the grounds.

No need to temper my hand, I suppose….

His opponent was a scion of the Demonic Cult.

Though if he's one of those taken in against his will, that would change things.

Wi-jin did not stir. Across the grounds, only the sound of the waterfall echoed, eerie and immense.

Every cadet stared at Yun Cheon in stunned disbelief.

"Well, then. That settles the match, doesn't it?"

Yun Cheon turned to Yu Ha.

Yu Ha's eyes sparkled as though he'd enjoyed a splendid show, and he declared the victory.

"The winner… Yun Cheon!"

The words were barely out before Yun Cheon swept the mountain of tokens into his pouch.

…Talent beyond belief for a mere cadet! So the greatest dark horse in the Hidden Demon Cave really is that boy?

No.

He was not a talent that could be contained within the Hidden Demon Cave alone.

Yu Ha had watched the young prodigies soar across the Central Plains—and none had ever pleased him like this one.

Talent to match that skill, and a background clean as fresh snow… Is Heaven testing me? He's the perfect candidate for the Young Pavilion Master's seat. I must extend my hand to him.

Yu Ha's gaze seemed fixed on Yun Cheon sweeping up the tokens—but it was reaching toward somewhere far beyond.

"You coward—hiding behind iron rings—!"

At the very moment Muk Ha-jin stepped forward in place of the unconscious Wi-jin—

"Enough."

A voice cold as frost rolled out from behind the cadets, freezing their fervor solid in an instant.

Out of the darkness emerged the Mad Blood Blade, Instructor Jeok Mu-gwang, his face carved from ice.

His gaze swept in turn over the unconscious Wi-jin, over Yun Cheon clutching his mountain of tokens, and over the cadets gone pale as corpses.

"And what, exactly… is all this?"

The night-match gambling den had been discovered.

Jeok Mu-gwang stared straight at Yun Cheon and Yu Ha.

"…Was this your doing?"