Chapter 10 At Once the Strongest Opponent
At Once the Strongest Opponent
Chapter 10 – At Once the Strongest Opponent
Moo Yeojin clenched and unclenched his fists, examining the body that had returned to adulthood.
‘So this is really just an illusion?’
It wasn’t only that his arms and legs had lengthened. He could feel the power and resilience in his hardened muscles, the razor-sharp acuity of his five senses. And more than anything, the immense flow of energy ready to overflow at any moment.
‘It really feels like I’ve come back.’
As though he’d been released from a tiny, cramped prison.
A deep smile curved across Moo Yeojin’s lips.
‘If it’s like this…’
Shing!
Somehow, a familiar heavy longsword — the one he had so often used before regression — had settled naturally into his grip. He raised the blade and leveled it at Cheon Hwarin.
“From here on, things will be different, Sister.”
Cheon Hwarin showed a flicker of surprise, then smirked faintly.
“So you’ve worked something out. But have you forgotten? Not once in your life have you ever defeated me!”
The words had barely left her lips before she surged forward.
How was such movement possible while bearing that enormous stone axe?
In an instant, she closed the gap. The axe, wrapped in a blade of condensed energy nearly half a jang long, howled down in a sweeping arc.
But unlike earlier…
Moo Yeojin had no intention of running anymore.
BOOOOM!
A thunderous roar shook the earth as a black-red arc of sword-energy burst from his blade, clashing head-on with her strike.
“If it were the real Cheon Hwarin, perhaps. But do you think I’d lose to a mere phantom?!”
“A man with nothing but a sharp tongue has no charm, little brother!”
Clang! Clang! BOOM!
Steel and stone collided faster than the eye could follow. Sparks flared in every direction each time blade and axe met.
In but a heartbeat, thirty exchanges had passed.
It was an even match.
Both their energies clashed and rebounded, hurling them back at the same time.
Cheon Hwarin steadied her grip on the axe, raising it high above her shoulder.
Huuuung!
From deep within her core, the overwhelming tide of her Blood Heaven Great Luo Energy surged forth. The axe blazed crimson like a sunset, then split the space itself as it came crashing straight down.
A downward strike — the simplest motion of an axe, but the one that most perfectly embodied its brutal might.
And this was Cheon Hwarin’s strike: a hundred geun of stone and iron, wielded by monstrous strength and infused with heaven-shattering qi. A strike that was itself a martial ultimate technique, a strike that was itself an esoteric truth.
The pressure alone made the skin tremble.
Any fool would know at a glance: one does not block this. One must run.
But Moo Yeojin did not flinch.
“Huup!”
He anchored himself low, channeled every drop of internal energy into his sword.
The heavy blade flared, weaving thousands upon thousands of threads of black-crimson sword-aura until they bound together into a single towering wall of sword force.
And with that, he met her axe head-on.
KA-BOOOOM!!!
The blast was deafening, dust and debris filling the air.
When the haze cleared—
“Urgh!”
Moo Yeojin staggered back five steps, grimacing, but still upright.
The sword had not shattered. His skull had not split.
He had blocked her strike.
A grin stretched across his lips.
‘As I thought. In this place, Sister cannot unleash her full strength.’
In reality, such a thing would have been unthinkable. A strike like that would leave only two possible outcomes: cleaved in half or crushed to pulp.
But here, in this illusion, it had been stopped.
‘Of course, I too can’t wield the whole of my power from before regression… but still.’
If she could bring out one part of ten of her strength, then he could bring out perhaps five.
In other words—
“This is a fight I might just win, Sister!”
“…Insolent brat!”
The duel raged anew. Sword and axe clashed, shaking the earth and sky alike. Their energies collided and shattered in the air like scattered stars.
Back and forth they pressed, neither yielding, each knowing that the tiniest mistake meant instant death.
“This all you’ve got, little brother?!”
“You call this all? I’ve only just begun!”
Moo Yeojin stomped, the ground shuddering as stone fragments lifted into the air. Channeling earth’s energy up through his body, he slashed in a great arc.
Four streaks of sword-energy tore across the battlefield. His signature technique — Four Transformations, Ten Thousand Strikes. The blades split again and again, becoming twenty streams, each aimed at a killing point.
But Cheon Hwarin was no ordinary foe.
She stepped back half a pace and swung her hundred-geun axe in a zig-zag sweep, generating a hurricane wind that shredded through the air.
SHHHHRRIP!
The two storms collided, consuming one another until nothing remained.
“Heartless brat! To unleash such a merciless sword on your own sister?”
“And who was it that tried to split my skull in half first? Don’t talk nonsense!”
Their words masked their ragged breathing. Already hours had passed in this endless duel.
‘If this continues, there will be no end.’
They knew each other too well. Every style, every habit, every weakness. Neither could see the conclusion.
Moo Yeojin clenched his jaw.
‘No. I can’t waste any more time. If I hesitate now, later I will lose something precious again. And this time, I will not allow regret to consume me.’
His eyes grew cold.
He stepped forward, lowering his stance.
Cheon Hwarin narrowed her gaze.
“So you mean to risk it all, little brother.”
“If it fails, I’ll make it succeed. Isn’t that the reason I was sent back?”
A faint smile crossed her lips.
“That much is true.”
Shff!
She shifted, lowering the axe behind her back. To the untrained eye, her front seemed wide open. But it was the preparatory stance of her most lethal strike — One Axe Shatters Heaven.
Both had resolved to finish it here.
Their eyes met. Invisible blades of intent clashed in the air as they probed for even the tiniest opening.
For a time, it was as though the world itself had stopped.
Then, in a breath, they moved.
Both blurred like lightning.
Cheon Hwarin’s gaze locked on his form.
‘It’s over. The victory is mine, little brother.’
She anticipated his move, swung faster by the barest fraction of a beat. In a duel of masters, that was enough to decide life or death.
Her axe fell—
And then her vision went dark.
No. Not dark. Something black filled her sight.
A dragon.
A vast, pitch-black dragon had swallowed her field of view.
‘What… is this…?’
And then—
Thrust!
Her question never finished.
When the dragon vanished, she saw only Moo Yeojin’s blade piercing her heart.
She blinked, then chuckled weakly.
“So, little brother… you lied to me after all.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You said I was the strongest in your mind. But if that were truly what you believed, even in this world shaped by your inner self, you could never have defeated me.”
Moo Yeojin nodded slowly.
‘I see. So that’s what it meant.’
This trial was unwinnable for anyone who set limits on themselves.
For Moo Iyeon, it had been their father who appeared. And in her heart, her father was an insurmountable wall. Therefore, she could never pass.
Moo Yeojin pulled his sword free. No blood spurted; of course, it was an illusion.
“I didn’t lie, Sister. You were the strongest to me. But at the same time… you were also the wall I had to surpass. Without surpassing you, there’s no meaning to my return.”
Her eyes widened briefly, then softened into a smile.
“Insolent… but well said.”
Her body dissolved into the same black smoke from which she’d first appeared.
When Moo Yeojin opened his eyes again, he was back before the old iron door — in the body of a twelve-year-old boy.
He thought back to that final sword he had unleashed against Cheon Hwarin.
A sword born the night before he entered Biyondong, while sketching a portrait of his mother, Namgung Ryeongryeong.
It was still incomplete. He wasn’t sure he could replicate it again. Certainly not at his current level.
Only because the illusion had restored him to his former self could he wield it at all.
‘At the very least, until I reach that realm again, I won’t even be able to touch it.’
Creating a new sword art — that would be a matter of years yet.
Still, simply glimpsing that possibility with his own eyes was a tremendous gain.
And he was certain: when that sword was perfected, he would break through yet another wall.
After all, it was the very sword that had cut down even Cheon Hwarin.
Moo Yeojin muttered under his breath, toward the real Cheon Hwarin who must even now be swinging her axe fiercely somewhere in the world.
“Well… sorry about stabbing your heart, Sister. I’ll apologize properly when we meet again.”