“I heard that the physician from the Namgoong Clan would be examining me.”

“That is correct.”

“I have already shown my body to countless physicians, but there has been no improvement.”

“I heard as much. Is that why you sought to obtain the Great Restorative Pill?”

At Namgoong Mucheon’s direct question, the elders simultaneously stiffened in surprise.

The attempt to secretly obtain the Great Restorative Pill from Shaolin had been kept strictly confidential within Mount Hua. For that to come from Namgoong Mucheon’s mouth was more than enough to catch them off guard.

“I heard it from the Plum Blossom Divine Sword. Speaking of which, he seems to be absent.”

“The Plum Blossom Divine Sword had urgent matters and temporarily left the main sect. Regarding the discourtesy he committed at the Namgoong estate previously, allow me to take this opportunity to offer a formal apology.”

No Un rolled up the sleeve of his arm.

“As you can see, the Sect Leader of this sect has fallen to a dreadful illness, which greatly alarmed our elders.”

The implication was clear: the pressure No Mun had applied on the Namgoong Clan to retrieve the Great Restorative Pill was all due to the Sect Leader—himself—being afflicted with this illness.

Namgoong Mucheon nodded lightly, as if to indicate he understood.

“I did not take it lightly either, so it is fine.”

“Haha. Is that so?”

The elders cleared their throats with forced coughs—ahem, hrm!

Just the thought of the Sword Emperor not taking something “lightly” sent a chill down their spines.

Namgoong Mucheon slowly turned his gaze to sweep over the elders of Mount Hua.

“That is why I came in person. The Plum Blossom Divine Sword’s anger struck me as unexpected. And now that I see you for myself, I am glad I made the trip.”

“That the Heavenly Dragon Sword Emperor would come all the way to this remote place is gratitude enough.”

“There is no need to waste time. Let us examine your condition.”

“Of course. But before that—have you heard that the disciples of this sect and the martial artists of the Namgoong Clan wish to spar?”

“I have. I said to let them. Is it not natural for young ones to grow by fighting?”

Strictly speaking, neither the first-generation disciples nor the Black Dragon Division were particularly young—but because the one who said it was Namgoong Mucheon, no one thought to challenge the sentiment.

“In that case, I would also like to make a proposal.”

Namgoong Mucheon glanced toward the elders of Mount Hua with a faint smile.

“While our clan’s Medical Hall Master examines the condition of the Jade Plum Sword, how about a match? It has been quite a while, has it not?”

No Baek looked at him in shock.

“A match... you mean...?”

“You and I, the ones gathered here.”

As Namgoong Mucheon clenched his fist, taut veins rose visibly along his hand.

A soft blue energy radiated from his body like a gentle haze.

The elders of Mount Hua swallowed dryly, their gazes filled with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

“Well? Does it not make your mouth water a little?”

****

“Guh... Gughk....”

The beggar whose nape had been pinned underfoot gasped desperately for air as he looked up at the man crushing him.

He tried grabbing the ankle pressing down on him to alleviate the pressure, but his sweat-slicked palms kept slipping.

“Pu... Pungroe Divine... why... why are you doing this...?! Are you not afraid of going against the main sect...?! You cannot do this, not between orthodox factions...!”

The man looking down with a cold gaze was none other than Thunder and Wind Divine Art, Seop Mugwang—not ranked among the Ten Great Masters, but still infamous for his sword that struck like lightning.

“Why, you ask... What do you expect me to say to that? You claim to be the best in information gathering. You mean to tell me you did not know I was coming?”

Beneath Seop Mugwang’s foot was the man known as Mak Yeochwi, Branch Leader of the Yunnan Division of the Beggar’s Union.

“Coming out of nowhere like this... What nonsense! Sure, we’re good with intel, but... urgh... what do you think we are, mind readers...?!”

“If necessary, I should be.”

“W-What is that supposed to—”

Crunch.

“Gaaaah...! W-Wait, please...! Cough! G-Get this foot off—! Guh, guhheuk...!”

Seop Mugwang watched Mak Yeochwi's writhing form for a moment, then finally eased the pressure on his foot and asked again.

“Where are my subordinates?”

“Guh, guhheuk...! What kind of black-path bastard are you—!”

“If I have to ask a second time, you die.”

Crackle—A violent aura surged from Seop Mugwang’s entire body.

Mak Yeochwi sucked in a sharp breath, his face turning deathly pale.

If that foot was reinforced with internal energy, it would be only a matter of time before his neck snapped.

“I-I will talk! I will talk!”

Mak Yeochwi flailed as he slapped at Seop Mugwang’s leg.

Seop Mugwang finally lifted his foot and grabbed the man by the collar, yanking him upright.

“You would do well not to lie. Whether you lot are black path or white path, whatever dogshit flag you are under—I do not care.”

Mak Yeochwi frantically nodded his head.

Though Seop Mugwang’s face remained emotionless, that very lack of expression stirred deeper fear in his eyes.

****

Clang—! Clack-clack—! Clang!

On the sparring platform of Mount Hua, blue and pink energy whirled together in a dazzling dance.

The first to exchange blades were Namgoong Hyeok, Commander of the Black Dragon Division, and Yu Baek, a first-generation disciple and Sect Leader’s successor.

Namgoong Hyeok’s sword dug into Yu Baek’s right side.

Yu Baek twisted his body, avoiding the strike with a spin, and used that rotational momentum to aim his blade at Namgoong Hyeok’s right shoulder in return.

Clang—!

The sword that had just been thrust toward Yu Baek now returned in a flash to block the counterattack.

But instead of bouncing back, Yu Baek’s sword pressed down even harder on Namgoong Hyeok’s.

Crackle...

“You look quite young, but your external strength is well-tempered.”

“In martial arts, age does not matter. And besides—”

Clang—!

“I am not that young!”

Clang-clang-clang-clang! Clang! Clang-clang!

A storm of sparks erupted as the two swords clashed dozens of times in the blink of an eye.

“Hup!”

Yu Baek kicked off the ground and leapt upward.

Namgoong Hyeok, regaining his stance, braced himself for the incoming attack.

Yu Baek’s blade traced a splendid arc as it rained down toward Namgoong Hyeok.

A sword technique that gave the illusion of scattering petals—like dozens of flower blossoms falling in the wind.

It was Mount Hua’s sword technique, Falling Flower Sword.

...!

Namgoong Hyeok responded by drawing upon the Namgoong Clan’s sword technique.

To counter the dazzling combination of rapid and illusionary strikes, he chose the Heavenly Wind Sword Art .

Each time Namgoong Hyeok moved his sword, wind seemed to arise from nowhere, and a shimmering blue energy flowed like heat haze.

‘Ignore the illusions and strike the core!’

The fierce wind blew away the fake petals meant to distract the eye and peeled away the outer shell.

At last, the real targets he needed to intercept came into view.

Clang-clang-clang! Clang-clang!

‘He is one level above me.’

He had known it even before their blades crossed, but now that he had taken the attacks head-on, he was certain.

Yu Baek’s level was ahead of Namgoong Hyeok’s.

‘Skybound Swallow Sword, Second Form—Heaven-Leaping Flight!’

Mount Hua’s swordsmanship was particularly swift. Trying to block every strike was unreasonable.

Namgoong Hyeok changed sword techniques mid-flow, parrying Yu Baek’s strike and launching a counterattack in return.

Yu Baek’s lips curled faintly.

As if he had already anticipated Namgoong Hyeok’s response, he immediately continued with his next sequence.

The sword technique that represented Mount Hua.

Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Forms.

‘Sixth Form—Falling Blossoms!’

The scattering petals of plum blossoms fell—and then fell again.

To Namgoong Hyeok’s eyes, it looked as though a cascade of blossoms was pouring down on him in waves.

“Tch. Damn.”

So this was why people said Mount Hua’s sword was beautiful.

It was no mere embellishment—he now understood it through the blade itself.

‘Still, I cannot be so easily overwhelmed.’

Namgoong Hyeok gripped his sword tightly.

With force strong enough to cut through the entire deluge of plum blossoms in a single stroke, he launched his counter.

While Yu Baek fought with deceptive and illusory swordplay, Namgoong Hyeok responded with the Namgoong Clan’s core approach: solid and swift strikes.

‘Grand Evolution Sword Art, Later Three Forms—First Form.’

Great Evolution Slash of Shadows !

BOOOOOOM—!!

The two sword arts collided with an earth-shaking roar.

Namgoong warriors and Mount Hua disciples—who had been watching the duel breathlessly—leapt to their feet without even realizing it.

The clash of their energies kicked up clouds of dust, and the resonance of impact rang throughout the sparring grounds.

As the vibration slowly died down...

The two fighters who had locked blades drew their swords back at the same moment and exchanged formal fist salutes.

“That was a fine bout.”

“It was an honor to witness the Namgoong Clan’s sword firsthand.”

“The honor is mine. I have never before seen a sword so fast and beautiful. Just watching it was a joy.”

“You flatter me.”

After the brief exchange of formalities, the two turned and returned to their respective seats.

It was then—

With a rumble, Mount Hua shook as a sudden tremor echoed across the sect.

Everyone, including Namgoong Hyeok and Yu Baek, turned to look in the same direction.

It was the sound of the Namgoong Clan Head and the Mount Hua elders exchanging blows.

Only Namgoong Hyeok, Yu Baek, and Seolhwa were aware that such a match had been arranged separately.

As Seolhwa stared in the direction of the energy clash, she turned her gaze back to the sparring platform—where another Mount Hua disciple was now stepping up.

He was one of Mount Hua’s first-generation disciples. His name was Yu Son.

‘Yu Son...’

The name was unfamiliar.

And there were only two reasons for a Mount Hua disciple’s name to be unfamiliar to her.

‘One who never returned.’

Someone who, in her previous life, had never made it back to Mount Hua.

One whose name adorned an empty grave.

Or perhaps—

Someone who had never needed to return in the first place.

‘He could be one of the Blood Cult’s infiltrators.’

Perhaps not the one who implanted the hypnosis—but someone who had infiltrated the sect to support them from within. A likely accomplice.

Seolhwa rose from her seat.

She then approached a member of the Black Dragon Division who had just stood up and taken up his sword.

She reached out and grabbed his arm.

“I will participate in this match.”

The Black Dragon warrior’s eyes went wide.

“Pardon? You, my lady?”

Seolhwa looked to the Black Dragon Commander.

“Will that be all right?”

The look in her eyes as she asked was piercing and vivid.

The Black Dragon Commander knew that gaze well.

The clear and unwavering look she always had when she was about to accomplish something.

“There is no reason it would not be.”

He offered a short nod to Seolhwa, then gave the order to the Black Dragon warrior preparing for the match to stand down.

Seolhwa turned toward the sparring platform.

And as she stepped forward, Yu Son’s gaze locked onto her.