Challenging the Young Lord
Cheon Hwangyeol, the Young Lord of Sapaecheon, drew ragged breaths. “Hoo… hoo…” Moyong Gwang had poured every last drop of his inner energy into the Twin Lightning Stance, yet even after witnessing the sword aura, he had turned it against its wielder. No one, not even Namgung Yeong, could have emerged unscathed from that.
Or so he thought.
“Cough!”
“Hah. You’re in that state, yet you still wish to continue?”
“I have not lost yet. Do you truly believe something like this can stop me?”
Namgung Yeong stood on the verge of collapse, using his sword as a crutch to remain upright. His appearance alone should have ended the match, and Moyong Gwang glanced toward Sanghyeong for confirmation. But when Namgung Yeong declared he would continue, the decision was made to proceed.
This is troublesome.
Moyong Gwang swallowed a bitter smile as he met Namgung Yeong’s fierce gaze. The hopeful part was that both men had nearly exhausted their strength. The despairing part was that Namgung Yeong’s power far exceeded his expectations. Even if Moyong Gwang claimed the Alliance Leader’s seat now, Namgung Yeong’s influence within the Murim Alliance would not vanish unless the man himself announced his retirement.
“How about we settle this with a single stance?”
“I have no objections.”
“…Then here I come.”
Moyong Gwang made the proposal first. With nothing left to hold back, they would decide the victor with one final technique. Namgung Yeong assumed the stance of the Azure Sky Thunder God Sword, while Moyong Gwang took the posture of the Galaxy Flow—the Meteor Sword Art.
Shwaaaaaaaaak!
Both men surged toward each other without hesitation.
**********
Three days had passed since Baekri Hyeong arrived at Sapaecheon. During that time, he had wandered the grounds without once drawing his sword. Even though the unorthodox factions would one day stand beside him, there was no need to flaunt the Four Guardian Deities Sword. Besides, the secret of the art had already been revealed to his father, his sister, and his mother. Strangely, none of them had questioned him about it. There must be a reason they chose to overlook it, and he found it easier not to ask.
Baekri Hyeong resolved to train both the Hundred Heavens Three Stances and the Four Guardian Deities Sword. Moreover, the Hundred Heavens Three Stances are no inferior sword art to the Four Guardian Deities Sword. In fact…
It was an art of an even higher realm. A sword technique capable of being transformed by infusing the energies of the Four Sacred Beasts. Back then he had not been in his right mind, yet when he added the Vermilion Bird’s energy to the first stance, Devourer of the Heavens, it had birthed the terrifying killing sword known as Devourer of the Heavens Slaughter. That meant he could combine the Black Tortoise Breaking Sword with the Hundred Heavens Three Stances to unleash an unbreakable Devourer of the Heavens.
This is the correct path. I can become stronger than I was in my previous life.
Baekri Hyeong felt his conviction deepen. If he could grow even a little faster and obtain the power to stand against the Cheonma, he would never allow the murim to fall again.
“You seem to keep coming here these past few days. I would like to know why.”
“…If I said I came to meet someone, who do you think that someone is?”
“What interest could you possibly have in me that you keep seeking me out, young prodigy of the orthodox faction?”
“I wish to spar with you, Young Lord Cheon Hwangyeol.”
“Interesting.”
Cheon Hwangyeol, the Young Lord of Sapaecheon, was a martial artist who had only recently come of age. Known as the foremost rising star of the unorthodox factions, he had already reached the extreme peak of the Transcendent Peak Realm and stood on the verge of breaking through the wall of the Hwajing Realm that brought so many to tears. In time, he would earn a place among the Ten Great Masters of the World—a promising genius.
But to Baekri Hyeong, Cheon Hwangyeol was simply a troublesome yet reliable friend. Eccentric as he was, once battle began, there was no one more reassuring to watch one’s back. He possessed both cold judgment and the skill to match.
“If you believe my skill insufficient, I shall demonstrate it right here.”
“Enough. If you are the son of the Sword Sovereign, you must possess adequate strength. I accept your challenge. When shall we begin?”
“Now. How about we do it immediately?”
“Hahahaha! I like your boldness. Follow me.”
Cheon Hwangyeol seemed pleased by Baekri Hyeong’s straightforward nature and led him to the training grounds. As expected of Sapaecheon’s main compound, the arena dwarfed even the Murim Alliance’s facilities. It was far larger. After all, this was the very place where life-and-death duels were fought; it could hardly be built small or carelessly.
“Since you are of the orthodox faction, I will not use killing techniques. This is not a life-and-death match either.”
“The junior of the murim, Baekri Hyeong, requests a spar from Senior Cheon Hwangyeol.”
“We are not orthodox here, so there is no need for such formality. I will not stand on ceremony either.”
“That suits me fine.”
Cheon Hwangyeol waved off Baekri Hyeong’s cupped-fist salute. He had deliberately offered the gesture knowing the man disliked such empty formalities, yet the Young Lord’s personality remained unchanged.
“I will make the first move.”
“I won’t even offer you a few seconds’ head start!”
Thudooooom!
Cheon Hwangyeol stomped the ground and charged, employing his signature movement art, the Ink Dragon Descent Step. It was a crude yet powerful motion, as though a massive dragon were lunging with jaws agape. Facing the heavy yet swift advance, Baekri Hyeong stepped into the White Tiger Roar Step.
Roaaaar!
A colossal mountain tiger extended its claws toward the ink-colored dragon. The collision of energies created a tremendous shockwave. Both fighters burst through it, fist and sword clashing.
Boooom!
“Not bad. I am satisfied.”
“This is only the beginning!”
Shrrrk.
Baekri Hyeong deflected Cheon Hwangyeol’s empowered fist and spun low, gripping the scabbard in his left hand and the sword in his right as he lunged toward the man’s back. It was the second stance of the White Tiger True Sword—Dual Fang Clash.
Yet Cheon Hwangyeol was no easy opponent. The moment Baekri Hyeong vanished from sight, he drew upon the Ink Dragon Tyrant Divine Art to envelop himself in protective qi. Claaang! The Dual Fang Clash rebounded off the solid barrier of energy. As Baekri Hyeong tried to regain his footing, Cheon Hwangyeol was already upon him, driving an uppercut toward his jaw.
It was the Ink Dragon Origin Fist—the strongest fist art in the jianghu, passed down from the Mazon to the Lord of Sapaecheon.
Thudooooom!
“Kuh!”
“Your spirit is commendable, but that cannot be all you have!”
“You speak the obvious.”
Fwoooooosh!
Baekri Hyeong withdrew the White Tiger Wood Qi and wrapped himself in Vermilion Bird Fire Qi. The ever-complaining cry of the Vermilion Bird tickled his ears. Flames bloomed across his entire body. Startled, Cheon Hwangyeol leapt backward. This energy that pricked at his skin was unmistakably—
“You dare release killing intent before me?”
“Think of it as a side effect. Besides, you are hardly so frail that it would kill you.”
“An amusing fellow. Very well, let us play!”
Cheon Hwangyeol’s blood was finally up. Qi wrapped around both arms, he charged once more. Baekri Hyeong, however, intended to seize the advantage with the speed of the Vermilion Bird Fire Qi. The Ink Dragon Origin Fist was powerful but lacked speed—a blunt, heavy art. Though formidable, it had never been considered the greatest under heaven. Yet because its creator and user had been the Mazon, neither speed nor power had ever been lacking. A little less than a century ago, during the Heavenly Demon Cult’s uprising, the Mazon—then known as the Blood Fist—had already made a name for himself at the age of thirteen. It was said that blood never left his hands during those days.
But Hwangyeol is no match for the Mazon!
Shashashashashak!
Baekri Hyeong used the Vermilion Bird Fire Qi’s speed to toy with Cheon Hwangyeol. The Young Lord unleashed wild bursts of fist qi in an attempt to catch him, yet Baekri Hyeong’s movements were far swifter than the projectiles.
“Huuuup!”
“…!”
At last, when Cheon Hwangyeol showed signs of fatigue, Baekri Hyeong seized the opening. He drew a deep breath, kicked off the ground, and struck at the exposed gap. It was the second stance of the Vermilion Bird Slaughter Sword—Frenzied Blood Severing Slash.
Shraaaaaak!
“Kuh!”
Cheon Hwangyeol’s side was grazed by a sword strike infused with fire qi that had come from nowhere. He had managed to wrap himself in protective qi at the last instant; otherwise, the blow would have taken his ribs. To think that someone at the Transcendent Peak Realm—himself, the Young Lord—was being pressured like this. And Baekri Hyeong was only eleven years old.
At that age, with such skill… Hah. So you intend to claim the title of the greatest under heaven?
Cheon Hwangyeol had never harbored such ambition. Yet seeing someone surpass his own talent stirred something within him. Perhaps Baekri Hyeong was one of the trials he had been fated to face.
Step by step. First, match his movements!
Flash.
Cheon Hwangyeol’s eyes gleamed with renewed resolve. Baekri Hyeong saw it and nodded in satisfaction.
Yes. Advance like that. And you…!
…will break through the wall of the Hwajing Realm and soar into the heavens!