The Relentless Challenge
Jang Muhwi grabbed the hem of Ma Uiryong's sleeve. But Ma Uiryong did not look back. His mind held only one thought—the next match. Not a single shred of shame over his defeat remained. He simply replayed the coming bout in his head. He would learn from today's lesson, identify his opponent's weakness, and crush him completely. It was only a matter of time before he repaid this humiliation. All that remained was to leave a strong impression and promise a future confrontation.
Ma Uiryong gathered his qi and shook off Jang Muhwi's hand.
Thud!
Ma Uiryong tilted his head. He had clearly put force into the motion, yet his arm refused to move. Only then did he turn his head. Jang Muhwi's hand had shifted from his sleeve to his wrist. Ma Uiryong's face flushed red. Uninvited physical contact was considered rude in the murim, and Jang Muhwi had seized his wrist—the very spot where qi flowed most freely. Was that not how physicians checked a patient's pulse?
Ma Uiryong's lips trembled.
"Y-you bastard…"
"It seems I've been discourteous."
Jang Muhwi finally released his grip. He stepped back, clasped his hands behind him, and hid them from view. His expression was unreadable. For a moment, Ma Uiryong ground his teeth.
While the crowd held its breath, Jang Muhwi spoke again.
"Even if you're leaving, shouldn't you settle the account first, Young Master Ma?"
"Did you just say 'account'?"
"This was clearly a wager. I distinctly put forward two front teeth—though that wasn't my original intention. Since the match has concluded, it only makes sense that you provide proper compensation before departing, doesn't it?"
"…"
Ma Uiryong gave no reply. Instead, he glared at Jang Muhwi with bloodshot eyes. As everyone remained silent, Ma Uiryong ground his teeth once more.
"Is that why you grabbed my wrist?"
His voice carried killing intent. Yet Jang Muhwi's expression never wavered as he continued.
"What could be more important? How can you leave without settling the debt, Young Master Ma?"
Jang Muhwi paused and glanced around. The spectators made no sound, but their nodding heads showed agreement. After confirming the crowd's reaction, he spoke again.
"Now it is time for Young Master Ma to keep his promise."
"Say what you want."
Ma Uiryong drove his staff into the ground.
Thud!
While the crowd held its breath, Jang Muhwi opened his mouth.
"Let's have one more match."
"What did you just say?"
"I said we should fight again. I'll give you plenty of time to rest. In the previous bout, you were clearly holding back, weren't you? I want to see your full strength."
Jang Muhwi's eyes gleamed as he looked at Ma Uiryong. Murmurs rippled through the spectators. No one had expected such a request. The Ma Family warriors and even Jang Yuseong were equally stunned. The whispers grew louder. Since when did the victor demand another match from the loser? It was unprecedented. But Jang Muhwi had planned this from the start. Defeating Ma Uiryong was only half the goal; the other half was uprooting this weed entirely. Ma Uiryong would surely come looking for him again. If that happened while Jang Muhwi was away from the Jang Family, complications could arise. Better to make both him and the Jang Family objects of fear—so terrifying that Ma Uiryong would never dare challenge them again. If he could turn Ma Uiryong into a cowering dog, he might also extract what he wanted from the Ma Family.
Ma Uiryong, of course, had no idea what Jang Muhwi was thinking.
"Are you serious?"
"Let me ask you this. This match won't be the last, will it? You'll challenge me again soon enough, won't you? In that case, we might as well settle it today—for the sake of everyone watching."
"The spectators?"
Ma Uiryong clicked his tongue and looked around. To anyone, they were clearly just onlookers. Jang Muhwi shook his head.
"These people paid a fair price to be here. Where could you find better spectators? If we postpone the match, they'll have to pay again next time. That would be discourteous, wouldn't it?"
It was a proposal no one understood. The key point was that it was framed as being for the crowd's benefit, not his own. Jang Muhwi scanned the audience once more. Everyone nodded. They all knew Ma Uiryong would return—again and again, until his opponent submitted. Having to pay each time to watch made no sense. Seeing their reaction, Ma Uiryong's eyebrows twitched. For him, the situation was incomprehensible. The words Jang Muhwi had spoken were the very proposal he himself should have made.
Ma Uiryong spoke.
"Fine. I'll accept your proposal. Out of consideration for you, we'll begin the match after half an hour."
"That suits me as well."
As Jang Muhwi nodded, Ma Uiryong curled his lips and pointed at one of his subordinates. A warrior from the Ma Family rushed over and placed a small box before him. Ignoring the surrounding gazes, Ma Uiryong sat down cross-legged and opened the box. A sharp medicinal fragrance wafted out. He quietly tossed a pill from the box into his mouth and closed his eyes. The spectators began to murmur. What Ma Uiryong had consumed was clearly an elixir. Jang Muhwi nodded as he watched him. In a way, obtaining elixirs was also part of a martial artist's ability. From the scent alone, he recognized it—the pill was the Clear Bright Pill. Though not on par with the elixirs refined by the great sects, it was renowned for its efficacy. In Qinghai, the backwater of the murim, it was something money alone could not buy. One Clear Bright Pill would more than replenish the inner energy he had expended today and even provide a foundation to advance another step toward the next wall.
While quietly observing Ma Uiryong, Jang Muhwi snapped his fingers.
Crack!
Everyone turned to look at him. The spectators expected the Jang Family to produce an elixir of their own. Their eyes, however, betrayed little hope. Following Jang Muhwi's gaze, they landed on Jang Yuseong. Suddenly the center of attention, Jang Yuseong instinctively rummaged through his robes, wondering if he had any cheap recovery pills left from the market. All he felt were a few iron coins. The Jang Family's finances were truly dire. He quietly shook his head—a sign that not a single elixir remained in the household. Yet he could not say it aloud. How could he admit they had nothing when Ma Uiryong had just taken one? It was a matter of face. Jang Yuseong walked over to Jang Muhwi and whispered.
"You know we have no elixirs left in the family, don't you?"
"What I'm requesting isn't an elixir."
Jang Muhwi's low reply made Jang Yuseong tilt his head.
"Then what do you want?"
"It's getting dark. Could you prepare some torches to light the area?"
"There's still three hours until sunset…"
"It seems this will take some time."
"Very well. Just be careful."
"Understood, Uncle."
Jang Muhwi sat down cross-legged. The crowd stirred. The contrast between Ma Uiryong, who had taken an elixir, and Jang Muhwi, who had not even drunk a sip of water, was stark. They looked at Jang Muhwi with pity.
─┼
Exactly half an hour later, Jang Muhwi and Ma Uiryong faced each other once more. Holding a new staff, Ma Uiryong spoke.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes, whenever you are."
"You won't regret this?"
"I never do anything I would regret."
"Then I'll go first."
Ma Uiryong lunged at Jang Muhwi's chest in the blink of an eye. Gripping two short staffs, he struck down as if wielding swords.
Whoosh!
The spectators instinctively squeezed their eyes shut at the sight of Ma Uiryong's strike cleaving the air. His attack was fiercer than before. Jang Muhwi, on the other hand, looked exhausted. A thunderous impact rang out between them.
Crack!
The crowd's eyes flew open. Jang Muhwi had blocked the strike without the slightest difficulty. After parrying the blow, he shoved Ma Uiryong back with his sword.
Thud, thud!
Having pushed Ma Uiryong away, Jang Muhwi shrugged and offered a faint smile. Everyone's eyes widened. In the previous match, Jang Muhwi had deflected Ma Uiryong's attacks to find openings. Now he was blocking them head-on. He showed no sign of being overpowered in strength. It was strange that Jang Muhwi appeared more composed than his opponent. He smiled faintly at Ma Uiryong. Others might find it odd, but the result was only natural. While Ma Uiryong had been taking his elixir, Jang Muhwi had been internalizing the insights gained from their previous bout—not some grand technique, but the instincts honed through countless life-and-death battles in his past life. Having faced masters several levels above Ma Uiryong, Jang Muhwi found him no match now that his senses had fully returned. His eyes and body had grown accustomed to the staff strikes. The only regret was that his instincts were not yet perfect. He wanted to refine them further through Ma Uiryong.
Thud, thud!
Jang Muhwi quickly closed the distance. Staff and sword tangled in the air.
Tap, tap!
Their weapons wove patterns in the air like a lady embroidering in her chambers. Exactly four hours later, Jang Muhwi's sword stopped an inch from Ma Uiryong's chest. This was their fifth match in total. The Jang Family courtyard, now cloaked in darkness, was illuminated by dozens of torches prepared by Jang Yuseong. Though considerable time had passed, the spectators had not left. They had never expected the situation to unfold this way. Every time a match ended, the victor was Jang Muhwi. The problem was his demand. He kept requesting another bout. Ma Uiryong was not the type to back down. Yet even after consuming elixirs and switching staffs, the outcome remained the same. The fifth match had also ended in Jang Muhwi's victory. Everyone held their breath, waiting for him to speak. As they swallowed dryly, Jang Muhwi said,
"Shall we go again?"
"…"
Ma Uiryong did not answer. Instead, he trembled with rage. His staff rattled against the ground, transmitting the tremor. But the shaking did not stop.
Rattle.
Ma Uiryong's trembling continued. He was in turmoil. He had been the one who would bite and tear until his opponent was completely broken. Now the roles were reversed—and in front of a crowd. What he understood least was how his opponent seemed even more vigorous than he was, despite having taken an elixir. He was losing in both momentum and strength. The thought of subduing Jang Muhwi had completely vanished. All he wanted now was to understand why he had lost. But he could find no answer. A volcanic rage engulfed him, yet his body refused to move. Was this fear? Ma Uiryong could not accept such an unfamiliar word. His staff continued tapping the ground like a bird pecking at feed. The trembling only grew stronger. Then it stopped. Jang Muhwi had seized his arm.
Thud!
Without changing his expression, Jang Muhwi asked,
"What will you do?"