There Were Two?

Gyo-ha’s status was the same as the current first-generation disciples.

They were warriors on the level of hall masters, the ones who effectively ran their sects.

That did not mean they could step forward themselves.

It was a matter of face.

They could not possibly cross blades with someone so much younger than they were.

In that case, second-generation disciples like Jeon Pyeong would be sent out.

How many among them could actually defeat Gyo-ha?

Even Jeon Pyeong, whose talent was recognized within Mount Hua, struggled to handle him.

On top of that, Gyo-ha was younger than Jeon Pyeong.

Among his peers, how many like him could there be? Even if one searched the whole world, they would be counted on one hand.

‘…Only someone like Great Sahyung, perhaps.’

Thinking of the fellow Plum Blossom Swordsman, Jeon Pyeong nodded.

Did Qingcheng truly have a talent on that level?

It was not that he doubted the latent strength of the Qingcheng Sect, but their opponent was all but a prodigy of Kunlun.

While he was thinking that, he heard movement outside.

“We are coming in.”

The door opened before they could answer.

The one who entered was someone even Gyo-ha knew well.

Su-jong Jinin.

He came in, then stepped aside.

Unlike at Justice Gate, his manner was cautious. They soon found out why.

The hem of a neatly worn Taoist robe swayed along with a beard.

He was an elderly Taoist.

Yet his eyes, unlike those of a typical Taoist, were keen and blazing.

Beside the old Taoist, Song Gyeom stood respectfully with his hands together.

From the moment the old Taoist entered, the air in the reception room changed.

Even without revealing his aura, the pressure that seeped out made it hard to breathe.

Tension rose not only on Jeon Pyeong’s face, but on Bong Seok’s as well.

The old Taoist’s gaze swept over the group, then stopped on Gyo-ha.

“You are the ones from Kunlun?”

“Yes.”

“I am called Tae-jeong.”

“Tae-jeong Jinin…”

Bong Seok breathed the name out like a gasp.

He was one of the Elders of the Qingcheng Sect.

He was a master with the title Divine Wind Sword, one of the masters who represented Qingcheng.

Tae-jeong Jinin turned his head.

Su-jong Jinin bowed his head, then took something from his chest and handed it over.

“This is the Qi-Borrowing Support Art as promised. I have also included two Minor Clarity Pills. This should be enough as an apology.”

Gyo-ha received one secret manual and two elixirs from Su-jong Jinin.

“Th, thank you?”

He glanced up at Su-jong Jinin, but Su-jong’s expression was calm.

Only the Mount Hua disciples and Bong Seok behind him were struggling to hide their shock.

It was surprising enough that they had handed over the manual so obediently, but no one had expected them to give Minor Clarity Pills as well.

Minor Clarity Pills were not on the level of Supreme Clarity Pills, yet they were still treasured elixirs within the Qingcheng Sect.

Disappointment flickered across Gyo-ha’s face as he received the manual, but Seo Jong-dae quickly elbowed his side.

Tae-jeong Jinin found it odd, but he would never imagine that the boy was disappointed because they had given the manual just as requested.

“However, I have concerns. Sword Freak. There’s no doubting that man’s skill. Yet a sect is not built by the strength of one person alone. Above all, the name Kunlun holds great meaning for orthodox martial artists.”

As Tae-jeong Jinin went on, the expressions of those listening slowly changed.

“It may simply be the worries of an old man, but may I confirm your level of skill. It is this old man’s request.”

His words were courteous, but his eyes were oppressive.

At the unexpected suggestion, Gyo-ha’s eyes sparkled.

However, Seo Jong-dae stopped Gyo-ha as he was about to answer and spoke in his place.

“If our juniors fail to meet Jinin’s standards, what do you intend to do?”

“I intend nothing in particular. I only mean to offer help. How would it be if you trained here at our main sect until your skills improve. Our sect is not stingy with instruction. If not that, we could send disciples to Kunlun to protect you.”

“…!”

The faces of the Mount Hua disciples and Bong Seok, listening behind them, went stiff.

If it had been another minor or mid-sized sect, it would have been something to welcome.

But the one in question was the Kunlun Sect.

He called it help, but what he really meant was placing Kunlun under their sphere of influence.

“We ask no price. As a fellow Taoist sect, we have viewed what happened to Kunlun with deep regret. For the sake of Orthodox Murim, you should not have faded so easily.”

He was saying Kunlun’s fall was not just Kunlun’s problem alone.

The Minor Clarity Pills were merely a justification.

After listening, Seo Jong-dae glanced to the side at Gyo-ha.

Sure enough, the corner of Gyo-ha’s mouth twisted.

Gyo-ha was not stupid.

He disliked using his head, but he was more sensitive than anyone to hostility from others.

“…Sounds good. I was curious about Qingcheng’s skill as well.”

Gyo-ha gave a fierce smile.

The group headed for the training grounds.

Watching others spar was all but taboo.

The Mount Hua disciples tried to withdraw, but Tae-jeong Jinin urged them to stay.

“It will be of benefit to you as well. If the chance arises, it would be good for you to trade blows with them.”

Yet Jeon Pyeong and Bong Seok were not so dull as to miss the intent behind his words.

They needed witnesses to this matter. There might be talk about it later.

Mount Hua and the Beggars’ Union would be witnesses enough.

‘I heard Qingcheng was far removed from true Taoism.’

He had not expected them to be this blatant.

Bong Seok clicked his tongue inwardly. As the group walked, the Qingcheng Taoists’ gazes poured down on them.

There was more hostility in those eyes than curiosity.

Yet contrary to that attention, there were few actually waiting at the training grounds.

It was natural that the young third-generation disciples were absent, but even the second-generation disciples numbered only three.

There were also two who appeared to be first-generation disciples like Su-jong Jinin, and one old Taoist with the same standing as Tae-jeong Jinin.

“I forbade others from entering, since it would be troublesome. With too many people, it is hard to show one’s true skill.”

At Tae-jeong Jinin’s words, Gyo-ha scratched the back of his head. In truth, it did not matter much to him.

Besides, if that was truly his concern, he should not have invited Wudang and the Beggars’ Union to observe in the first place.

“Let us begin without further chatter. Who will go first.”

“I will.”

Seo Jong-dae stepped forward.

Gyo-ha looked at him in surprise.

Seo Jong-dae did not like to take the front.

As Seo Jong-dae walked out holding his fan, Tae-jeong Jinin spoke.

“An iron fan, is it? Will that be all right.”

Tae-jeong Jinin’s gaze swept over Seo Jong-dae from head to toe.

Receiving that meaningful look, Seo Jong-dae nodded.

“I will show the best I am capable of.”

“If that is what you say, then so be it. Song Gyeom, you step out.”

“Yes.”

Song Gyeom moved forward.

“The spar will be conducted with internal energy. We are here, so do not worry about getting hurt.”

The old Taoist standing beside him gave a calm look, as if it went without saying.

Song Gyeom cupped his fists.

“I am Song Gyeom of Qingcheng.”

“…Seo Jong-dae of Kunlun.”

Seo Jong-dae hesitated for a moment, then returned the greeting.

The two then took their stances.

Song Gyeom was the first to move.

Heavenly Wind Sword.

True to its name, his sword moved like the wind.

Chwareuk!

Seo Jong-dae’s iron fan unfurled.

The tip of the fan had been ground as sharp as a sword.

Elegant movements. A continued exchange of attacks and defenses.

The exchange was one-sided. Seo Jong-dae looked hard pressed to even block Song Gyeom’s sword.

It was not exactly surprising.

Song Gyeom was already a rising master with a known name.

Even so, no one had expected it to proceed in such a lopsided way.

“It cannot be helped when he is wearing clothes that do not fit.”

Tae-jeong Jinin murmured quietly.

Jeon Pyeong understood what he meant. Seo Jong-dae could not properly handle the fan arts.

He was only suppressing it through his own ability.

‘Even so, it should not be this bad.’

Jeon Pyeong glanced at Gyo-ha. Even though Seo Jong-dae was being pushed back, Gyo-ha’s expression was calm.

He was simply watching their fight.

Seeing the strange glint mixed in Gyo-ha’s eyes, Jeon Pyeong realized something.

‘Do not tell me.’

He looked back at Seo Jong-dae.

Seo Jong-dae was stubbornly holding on, even though the tide had turned against him.

The Qingcheng disciples watched that sight as if it were only natural.

However.

Twitch. The brows of the old Taoist watching them stirred.

Tae-jeong Jinin’s expression was also slowly hardening.

At that moment, Seo Jong-dae staggered.

Song Gyeom chased in without missing that opening.

Seo Jong-dae’s steps, which had seemed about to collapse, grew erratic.

Gyo-ha recognized that movement.

Golden Wild Goose Treading Clouds.

It was a Kunlun movement art that Gyo-ha had also learned. The iron fan flew in right behind it.

However, Song Gyeom was not flustered.

‘This is his last struggle.’

He could respond to it well enough.

His face was full of composure.

The fully opened fan was blocked by Song Gyeom’s sword.

At that moment, the corner of Seo Jong-dae’s mouth lifted.

Sensing instinctively that something was wrong, Song Gyeom tried to pull his sword back.

Kkirik.

However, the sword was caught in the iron fan and would not move.

It was not only the tip of the fan that was sharpened like a blade.

Small barbs jutted from the sides like hooks.

The sword wedged between them did not budge.

But Song Gyeom had more than just his sword.

His palm shot toward Seo Jong-dae’s shoulder.

However, light streaked out even before that.

It was sheer, blistering speed.

Seeing the fan suddenly right in front of his eyes, Song Gyeom swallowed dryly.

It was a fan with a sharp, pointed tip.

‘…There were two fans?’

It was smaller than the fan Seo Jong-dae had been holding.

Yet it was more than threatening enough.

The Cool-Breeze Fan was not the only fan technique Seo Jong-dae had learned.

“As you yourself know, the Cool-Breeze Fan does not suit you. Cool-Breeze Fan is an art of illusion.”

Yun Heo took Seo Jong-dae’s fan and spread it wide.

As he moved his steps, the fan fluttered.

Soft and graceful.

The movement of the fan kept changing. Before he knew it, Seo Jong-dae, watching in a daze, was swallowing as he saw the edge of the fan at his throat.

It bewitched the opponent’s eyes with dazzling motion and hid its sharpness.

It would suit someone like Seo Chil or Jong Dae-un.

But it did not fit Seo Jong-dae.

As Seo Jong-dae’s face stiffened, Yun Heo let out a brief laugh.

“However, the fan itself does suit you.”

What did that mean?

When Seo Jong-dae looked puzzled, Yun Heo drew another fan from his breast.

It was a long fan, about three inches longer than the one Seo Jong-dae used.

“This thing called a fan is more versatile than you think.”

Chwareuk!

When he flicked the fan open, sharp blades came into view.

It looked as if several blades had been joined together.

Seo Jong-dae, who had only thought of sturdy iron fans, widened his eyes.

Yun Heo did not stop there.

He tapped the ground with his foot and a stone jumped up.

Pang!

He struck it with the fan and the stone buried itself in a tree.

Yun Heo kicked the ground again.

This time he flicked the ribs of the fan. The stone slipped into the swaying ribs.

“In this way, you can also snatch away weapons.”

Yun Heo gave his hand a shake and the fan folded.

Kwajik. The stone shattered and dust scattered.

“On top of that.”

Yun Heo tossed the fan he was holding to Seo Jong-dae.

Feeling the weight of the fan, Seo Jong-dae narrowed his eyes.

At that moment.

He saw a sharp awl before his eyes.

“People often carry a fan in place of a hidden blade, like this.”

It was a small fan he had kept hidden in his sleeve.

“It is a fitting weapon for a sly fellow like you.”

Even at Yun Heo’s words, Seo Jong-dae could not talk back.

He had not been able to see Yun Heo’s movements.

“Fortunately, our sect has a martial art that fits this. Bone-Piercing Fan. It was originally a short staff art, but our forebear modified it to suit the fan.”

Yun Heo took a stance, then stabbed with the fan.

“It is fast and stealthy.”

Chwareuk! The fan’s blades sliced through the air.

“And sharp. On top of that.”

Yun Heo threw the opened fan. To Seo Jong-dae’s surprise, the fan cut through a tree branch and returned.

“In this way, it can also be used as a throwing weapon.”

With trembling eyes, Seo Jong-dae stared at the fan.

“With this, you can make use of your strengths. It will be easy enough for you to learn. However, because of the nature of this art, it is hard to use it as your main martial art. It is best suited to be used together with another art.”

After saying that, Yun Heo opened the fan that Seo Jong-dae had been using.

In his other hand was the small fan.

“You bewilder the opponent with Cool-Breeze Fan, then strike their blind spot with Bone-Piercing Fan. Do not think its depth is shallow just because it is easy to learn. It will be hard to master both together. But if you can use these two arts freely…”

Yun Heo looked at Seo Jong-dae and lifted the corner of his mouth.

“You will not envy any art that is called a divine art.”

Without realizing it, Seo Jong-dae clenched his fist.