"Crippled for life? Ha!" The pale-faced young man scoffed, disbelief written all over his face.
However, his reaction didn't match his struggle. Despite his bravado, he couldn't free his hand, and his expression grew darker with each passing moment.
His grip faltered slightly, but he refused to let go.
I, on the other hand, remained calm. While I wasn't certain about many things, there was one truth I knew without doubt: my strength right now was no less than that of seasoned experts who had broken through the walls.
His face twisted further in frustration as his efforts yielded nothing, and I maintained my unrelenting hold, my confidence unwavering.
At that moment, Yeo Yang-seon stepped forward, her voice raised in protest. "Stop it, both of you! How can you act so disrespectfully in front of the master?"
I turned my gaze to her, my grip on the young man's wrist unwavering. "He was the one who started it," I said coldly. "To some, it may seem like just an ordinary dagger, but to me, it's the only keepsake my mother left behind."
Yeo Yang-seon froze at my words, her expression faltering. It was clear she hadn't known the full significance the dagger held for me. Her initial determination to intervene wavered, and the weight of my statement silenced her.
Yet even as her sympathy began to show, it didn't mean I was about to let go of the situation.
The tension remained thick, and I could feel the young man's frustration growing. But my resolve held firm—this was something I couldn't simply walk away from.
"Ugh! You could've just explained the situation instead of resorting to this!" Yeo Yang-seon exclaimed, her tone urgent. "No matter how much you've learned from our teacher, this is dangerous. My brother has been cultivating for over 70 years—he's not someone to take lightly. And you," she added, glaring at the pale-faced young man, "should stop too! Is this how you treat the youngest disciple who's barely crossed the threshold of training?"
Sword Immortal frowned deeply, clearly confused. "The youngest disciple? What are you talking about?" he asked sharply.
Crack!
Before anyone could respond, the wooden floor beneath me and the pale-faced young man gave way, splintering under the unbearable strain of our clashing forces.
A fissure ran through the aged wooden boards, sending a sharp creaking noise through the room.
It was clear that neither of us intended to back down, but the structure itself was reaching its limit. The air was thick with tension as everyone froze, staring at the crumbling floor.
The pale-faced young man glared at me, his eyes filled with hostility. He sneered and said, "I wanted to finish this, but I guess I'm not the Master's new disciple after all."
"I told you to put down the short sword," I responded coldly, refusing to back down.
He smirked, his voice laced with derision.
"Isn't it ironic? Disciples who are supposed to uphold unity end up clashing like this."
Before I could even process his words, the young man lunged at me, aiming for my chest with a swift strike.
"Stop it!" Yeo Yang-seon shouted in alarm, her voice sharp with urgency.
But there was no time for anyone to react.
I threw a punch to counter him, and in an instant, the two of us collided.
Boom!
The impact of our clash sent a shockwave through the room, the sheer force of our strike causing a burst of wind that rattled the walls. The pressure was so intense that it felt like the very air around us had been knocked out.
At that moment, Yeo Yang-seon stumbled back five steps, clearly shaken by the force of the clash.
She looked at me in astonishment and muttered, "That's strength comparable to a senior disciple…"
It seemed she had assumed I would inevitably lose if I went up against the pale-faced young man.
The young man, too, appeared unsettled. His expression betrayed a flicker of disbelief, as if he hadn't expected me to match his strength so effortlessly.
But unlike him, I hadn't even begun to tap into my full potential or draw upon my internal energy. "If you won't let go, I'll have to make you," I said coldly.
With that, I tightened my grip on his wrist, the one clutching the Short Sword.
I could feel it—I was on the verge of breaking his wrist.
At that moment, the young man raised his voice, his tone sharp and defiant.
"So, this is the care Master has lavished on you. Fine! Let's settle it here. Let's see who truly deserves to inherit the teachings of Sword Immortal!"
A sudden surge of power erupted from him, shaking the room.
Boom!
The air around him grew heavy, and his energy spiked to an unimaginable level. It was as if his body was brimming with raw force, almost exploding outward.
'This... this can't be!'
Crack!
The wooden floor beneath his feet twisted and splintered under the strain of his energy.
The force pushed me back, my grip on his wrist weakening as his energy created an intense repulsion.
The sheer power was overwhelming-something | thought should be impossible.
A smirk appeared on his face, the corners of his mouth curling upward. "So, you haven't been taught this? Then let go of that arrogant hand!" he sneered, summoning a powerful reaction.
At that moment, I narrowed my left eye and shifted my stance from low to mid-level, activating the Blood Demon Art.
Whoosh!
My entire body flushed red as blood circulated fiercely, releasing steam from the intense heat within.
I could amplify my strength further by unleashing the full force of the Blood Demon Art, but this was a sacred Taoist temple. Using such extreme methods here was unthinkable.
Tremble!
"You!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with surprise as the repulsion force that had been pushing me back abruptly stopped.
My hand held firm, steady in defiance of his overwhelming energy.
The man's eyes wavered as he noticed the sudden shift.
"What… What are you? How is it even possible for your blood to circulate like that?"
Did he figure it out just from the steam rising off my body?
Though he was said to be a disciple of Sword Immortal, it was clear his title wasn't just for show—his insight was remarkable.
"So, you were hiding something after all. Fine! Let's see what you've got!"
For a moment, he seemed taken aback by my combination of the Celestial Strike Formation—an attack technique far more powerful than the Lower Energy Formation—and the Scarlet Blood Flow Technique, which pushes external attacks to their absolute limit.
But his hesitation didn't last long. His energy flared even stronger, surging wildly as he prepared for the next move.
The surge of energy within me felt as though it was boiling my very core—my five organs and six viscera seemed ready to burst.
Is this power nothing more than a temporary boost?
If that's the case, then I'll have to resort to my own hidden technique.
Southern Heaven!
"Understood."
At the sound of my command, the Southern Heaven Iron Sword began to tremble within its sheath, ready to unsheath itself.
It was at that very moment—
"Enough!"
A thunderous roar, as powerful as a lion's bellow, erupted through the air. The sheer force of the sound compelled both the pale-faced young man and me to instinctively cover our ears and stagger backward.
"Pfft!"
"Argh!"
The pressure from the sound alone was overwhelming, almost unbelievable.
I clicked my tongue in frustration, my eyes darting toward the epicenter of the roar.
Can such power truly come from just a voice?
Standing there in all his might was none other than the Sword Immortal.
The sense of intimidation emanating from the swordsman, who walked with his back facing the others, was unlike any expert I had ever encountered. Yet, it wasn't violent or oppressive. Instead, it was a calm and pure presence, one that felt almost comforting, though immensely powerful.
'No internal injuries,' I thought, surprised. Despite being thrown back by the force of the lion's roar during the aerial competition, l had suffered no internal injuries.
It seemed the same applied to the young man as well. Though I had imagined competing against him, the reality was that he was operating on an entirely different level.
"Woonhwi!"
"Short sword!"
At that moment, I heard Short Sword's voice. It seemed like he had dropped the short sword after being thrown back by the Lion's Roar just now.
As I stretched out my hand, the Short sword that had fallen on the floor flew toward me.
Chak!
When I gripped short sword in my hand, she spoke in a voice filled with emotion.
"Ugh! Woonhwi, I was afraid I might lose you forever."
It was clear that she was deeply scared.
"I don't ever plan on losing you either," I said.
That's why I came to this unfamiliar place—to get it back.
"Huh."
I looked up as the sound of approaching footsteps and sighs reached my ears. The Sword Immortal was gazing at me with an expression of confusion.
"How can a young man…"
Before he could finish, the pale-faced young man interjected loudly.
"Are you still denying this? How can someone who hasn't mastered the Master's teaching communicate with the sword and use it??"
Upon hearing the young man's outburst, Sword Immortal turned his attention toward him and spoke:
"This is what I wants to ask…"
"You're being pretentious again," the young man retorted angrily. "I don't want to hear any more of your sophistry. If you want to get rid of me like that, please do so. No, I will go to the temple myself!"
With those words, the pale-faced young man stormed out of the room. Seeing this, Sword Immortal placed the back of his hand to his forehead and sighed, his expression a mixture of disbelief and frustration.
"The Tao is not enough. It's just not enough. What can an old man do?"
He spoke in self-reproach, blaming himself.
Yeo Yang-seon rushed to Sword Immortal's side, fell to the floor, and pleaded, "Master, please don't expel him. I've been holding onto this regret for so long, and now it has finally come to the surface."
Sword Immortal looked down at her with a conflicted gaze, then slowly turned his palm downward before flipping it over.
Then, Yeo Yang-seon's body, which had been lying face down, rose on its own.
"You've had a hard time," Yeo Yang-seon spoke with Sword Immortal's soft voice.
"I will immediately bring that stubborn senior brother of mine back and make him apologize to you. Please don't hate him, Master. You know how pure-hearted he is…"
Pure-hearted. To me, there was nothing more frightening than pure stubbornness. Even when on the wrong path, someone like that would always believe their own way is right.
Sword immortal sighed and turned to her, saying, "How could I hate that child? I will go and calm down your senior brother."
Her expression brightened at Sword Immortal's words. Looking at her, I could see how deeply Yeo Yang-seon cared for that young man.
Yeo Yang-seon said. "When my brother sees you, he'll likely get upset again. Master, please wait here for a moment."
With that, she quickly left the room, leaving Sword Immortal and me alone.
It worked out well because I had been hoping to speak with him privately. I had many questions, especially about the Short sword, the place where I found myself, and why he was still alive.
Before I could speak, Sword Immortal turned to me and asked, "How is it that you've learned the technique I never taught?"
"Technique?" I responded, confused. "What technique are you talking about?"
Sword Immortal motioned with his eyes to the back of my right hand. It took me a moment to realize he was referring to the small mark, a symbol resembling the Big Dipper, that had always been on my hand.
Others couldn't see it, but his gaze seemed to indicate that he could see it clearly.
I quickly grabbed his arm, almost as if trying to hold onto a lifeline.
"Sword Immortal, I never imagined you'd still be alive like this…"
He looked at me, expression unchanged, but his voice was calm. "What are you talking about? This is the first time I've met you, child."
I froze, momentarily speechless. "What do you mean? This is the first time we've met?"
The question hung in the air, and confusion clouded my mind. If this was our first meeting, then how could we have communicated before through… will? What did it all mean?
"What is this? Isn't he the old man, Sword Immortal?"
I nodded hesitantly. "That's right. But… he's acting like this is the first time he's ever seen me."
The Sword Immortal glanced at Sodam Sword and said calmly, "I believe I've already explained myself."
• What is going on…?
I froze. I wasn't surprised by what was happening, but hearing the voice of Short Sword out loud was a shock. It was the first time I'd heard it speak to anyone but me.
"You heard that, didn't you?" I said, stunned.
The Sword Immortal tilted his head slightly and replied, "Yes, I heard it. The bond you share with your sword is remarkable."
- This can't be happening! Someone other than you can hear me? This is unbelievable!
The disbelief in Short Sword's voice was almost comical. I felt the weight of its astonishment as it processed the moment.
The Sword Immortal chuckled softly, clearly entertained. "I can see why your swordsmanship is so strong. The connection between you and your sword runs incredibly deep."
• You're really hearing me? I… I don't believe this!
Southern Heaven Iron Sword, resting at the Sword Immortal's side, seemed just as intrigued.
• Did you say you're the Sword Immortal? Does that mean you can hear my voice as well?
The Sword Immortal gave a hearty laugh. "It truly is a sword with a strong will. What an extraordinary artifact."
• Extraordinary? This is ridiculous!
The Short Sword's indignation mixed with disbelief filled the air.
At that moment, the Sword Immortal's gaze fell on the sheath I was carrying, and his expression darkened.
The sheath held the Blood Demon Sword and the True Evil Sword, both of which had been making strange noises that I had been suppressing with great effort. While I couldn't hear them myself due to the barrier I had set up, the Sword Immortal—who could naturally hear the voices of swords—was not similarly shielded.
His expression twisted into something grim and forbidding as he spoke.
"Blood Demon?"
'!!!'
The words struck me like lightning, and I froze for a moment, unable to process them.
For someone like him, a devout Taoist, the Blood Cult and Yokai swords were undoubtedly enemies of the highest order. I had entirely overlooked the fact that someone as attuned as the Sword Immortal would instantly recognize their presence. It was impossible to deceive someone who could hear the voices of swords so clearly.
"Master Sword Immortal!" I exclaimed, trying to explain. "Let me just—"
But before I could finish, my body stiffened completely, as if it were no longer under my control.
An invisible, overwhelming energy wrapped around me like an intangible rope, binding my entire body. No matter how much I pushed my strength to resist, it was utterly useless.
"Pfft!" I exhaled in frustration, realizing the vast difference between us. I knew he was hailed as the greatest swordsman in history, but this level of power was monstrous—he was on a level completely beyond my reach. It was as if I were a mere child before a master who had long surpassed the boundaries of mortal strength.
"Woonhwi!"
"Let go of Woonhwi!"
The short sword, burst into action, its voice ringing with urgency. It activated its special ability, and tried to charge at the Sword Immortal in a desperate attempt to free me.
But with a casual downward flick of his hand, the Sword Immortal stopped Sodamgeom mid-air. The blade, which had been poised to strike, dropped helplessly to the ground with a metallic clang.
"Sodam!" I cried.
"Woonhwi," Short Sword's voice rang in my mind, confused and frustrated. "I… I can't move all of a sudden!"
Glancing at the back of my hand, I noticed the glowing jade mole still shining brightly. It seemed that its energy, too, had been forcibly suppressed by the Sword Immortal's unyielding power.
"Stay still," he commanded in a calm but firm tone.
With a subtle wave of his finger, the sheath I was wearing unraveled, disintegrating piece by piece until it revealed the two swords I had been concealing: the Blood Demon Sword and the True Evil Sword.
"These swords…" The Sword Immortal muttered, his eyes narrowing as he examined them. "They're brimming with resentment."
He clicked his tongue in disapproval, his gaze heavy with an indescribable mixture of pity and disdain.
The process of forging a yokai sword is vastly different from that of an ordinary blade.
Sword immortal recognized this immediately, his sharp eyes scanning the swords with a deep understanding born from centuries of experience.
"Chak!"
Without hesitation, the Blood Demon Sword and the True Evil Sword flew into his hands, as if drawn by an unseen force. Holding the two swords, Sword Immortal closed his eyes, his expression turning somber.
"No way… Could it be Heavenly Energy?"
The realization hit me. Heavenly Energy—an ability tied to the Big Dipper's power. It was said to allow its wielder to delve into the memories of any weapon, reading its history like an open book.
It didn't take long. A few moments later, Sword Immortal opened his eyes. His gaze fell on the Blood Demon Sword, and his frown deepened, his face shadowed with shock.
"How could this happen…?" he muttered, his voice heavy with disbelief.
I couldn't understand what had startled him so profoundly. His piercing gaze shifted from the sword to me, his expression now sharper, more inquisitive.
"Are you… a descendant of the Baek clan?" he asked.
The question took me off guard. The Baek clan—those infamous for their ties to the blood demon lineage. His words carried weight, as though he were trying to connect my existence to the sinister history of the sword in his hands.
I hesitated. Should I reveal the truth I had kept buried from everyone?
But even as I considered hiding it, I knew the Sword Immortal's abilities were far beyond mine. If he could read a sword's memories so effortlessly, he would uncover the truth regardless of what I said.
Realizing it was futile to deceive someone like Geomseon, I decided to be honest.
"I inherited it by blood, but only through my mother's side. It's not a direct lineage," I explained cautiously.
"Your mother's side, you say?" Sword Immortal clicked his tongue and shook his head. "How peculiar. Even if it's through your mother, someone with Baek family blood finding their way to Peach Blossom Spring is unheard of."
"Peach Blossom Spring? What are you talking about?" I asked, thoroughly confused.
He smirked faintly but didn't answer directly. "This realm is sealed to outsiders. No one without permission should be able to step foot here. How you managed it is beyond me…"
The cryptic answers only frustrated me more. None of this made any sense.
I frowned. "That's exactly what I want to ask. You're supposed to have passed away over 600 years ago. Yet here you are, alive in this place."
Sword Immortal's expression shifted into one of mild disbelief. "Who told you I was dead? Such ridiculous tales. Do I look like a ghost to you?"
His tone was light, but his puzzled expression made it clear he genuinely found the claim absurd.
He tilted his head, scrutinizing me as though trying to piece together a puzzle. After a moment, he shook his head, then placed both the Blood Demon Sword and the True Evil Sword gently on the ground before stepping closer to me.
"Zech!"
Suddenly, my right arm, which had been stiff and unresponsive, moved on its own. My palm rested atop Sword Immortal's as if guided by an invisible force.
"You'll understand the truth once you see how you mastered the Seven Stars," Sword Immortal said cryptically.
"Yes?" I muttered, still unsure what he meant.
Closely…
Sword Immortal gripped my palm tightly, and I felt a surge of energy course through my body. Then, as if on instinct, he closed his eyes, just as he had when inspecting the Blood Demon Sword and the True Evil Sword.
Was he attempting to use the Heavenly Technique, the ability to read the sword's memories, on me?
I stood still, contemplating this, when suddenly, Sword Immortal's eyes shot open wide, and he spoke in a voice filled with shock.
"You… are not the one who should be here!"
His voice was heavy with urgency, and I couldn't help but feel a ripple of unease.
I responded, confused, "What do you mean? Are you saying that it was a mistake for me to come here?"
Sword Immortal, visibly startled by my question, faltered. "How could this happen?"
"Please," I pressed, desperate for an explanation, "Tell me what's going on. I don't understand any of this."
My mind was racing. What could be so significant about my presence here? Was it a mistake to have entered this hidden realm?
Then, Sword Immortal's expression turned solemn, and he spoke with a deep seriousness.
"It may sound strange, but the sword techniques you know… they're from the old man's bloodline, passed down from around 350 years ago…"