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“First off, I’m asking because I don’t know.”

After the third Martial Arts Tournament, at the training grounds in the night.

I saw the Pejon practicing solo and couldn’t help but ask.

“Are you a crazy bastard or what?”

“What the hell, you brat?”

The Pejon, who was holding up a rock the size of a dwelling, turned to look at me.

His face was full of disbelief rather than anger.

“So now you’re even cursing at your master.”

“No….”

While I was talking, I quickly swung my fist.

Fwump-!

Crash-!

I smashed the rock flying at my face into pieces.

My wrist felt numb.

Damn it, that guy threw a rock wrapped in his strong energy.

“Your expression is something else.”

“Does it look good?”

“Not bad, I guess. Just as you wanted, right?”

“…Hah….”

Not bad? I sighed, looking at the scattered rock fragments on the ground.

“The world has never been worse, you know…?”

It was chaos.

There was no other way to express it.

It was indeed total chaos.

“Thanks to you, we couldn’t even finish half the tournament.”

After the main rounds, there was only one sparring stage prepared.

It was designed to withstand any typical impact.

Even if it were to get somewhat cracked or broken, it was supposed to be fixable.

‘But how do you fix that?’

There’s a limit after all.

If it became unrecognizable, then it’s not repairable.

‘That’s not repair, that’s like making a whole new one.’

Who could have predicted it?

That a mere martial artist would turn a sparring stage mixed with Evergreen Iron into such a mess.

I looked at the Pejon with narrowed eyes.

‘Was it called Pacheon?’

The Tua Pacheonmu’s fifth technique. Breaking Heaven.

That was the martial art the Pejon had used against the Sword King in this tournament.

It was a power I had yet to witness.

‘…To break the heavens.’

It sounded unbelievably arrogant for a martial art’s name.

But.

‘Maybe he could actually break it.’

Having witnessed that overwhelming might, I couldn’t deny it.

The sheer force was enough to make my body tremble.

‘What kind of destruction was that?’

The image of the Pejon using Pacheon replayed in my mind.

A gray sphere of compressed energy, coiled tightly.

When he forcibly burst it, the destructive force was extraordinary.

‘How did he apply it?’

What was that sensation at that moment?

Where did the flow of internal energy he projected even go?

‘The source of that energy is obviously Tua Pacheonmu.’

He must have utilized the energy that began there.

‘But how could he execute such meticulous application?’

The essence of Tua Pacheonmu was ‘destruction.’

Simply casting it would inflict pain on its user.

That overwhelming and rugged energy was fundamentally what gave it its destructive capability.

Hard to control and even harder to master, the martial art.

‘Yet at that time, the Pejon skillfully applied that energy.’

How was that even possible?

I could endure the pain, but to make that wild energy into a sphere and contain it was another story entirely.

Even among all this familiarity.

‘If you think about it, it’s similar to Flame Jade.’

It involves compression and condensation, topped with rotation.

While the Powder Moon Fist Immortal and Tua Pacheonmu are both crude, the former is more manageable.

In other words.

‘It’s possible to do the Powder Moon Fist, but Tua Pacheonmu is a whole other level of madness.’

And the Pejon pulled it off.

Thinking it over, it wasn’t that strange.

If I couldn’t do it, it was only natural that he could.

‘He is the Grandmaster after all.’

A person who blazes a trail on his own by creating uncharted martial arts.

Many geniuses learn martial arts and elevate their realms, but few can innovate based on that foundation.

Tua Pacheonmu is an exclusive creation.

And it had only been a mere half-century since its inception.

Crafted alongside centuries of other martial arts, it was dubbed a new technique.

Could this even make sense?

‘Not really. But that old man did something that defies expectation.’

An induced transformation due to intense cultivation.

A state where one can instinctively reach no-self.

Holding two powers that would each leave a mark on history.

What kind of person was the Pejon to create such a thing?

‘He’s definitely not in his right mind.’

That much was certain.

Anyhow.

‘The important thing is how do you use the fifth technique…’

“This is something else. Who’s calling who a madman here?”

“…!”

Just as I was deep in thought, the Pejon’s words snapped me back to reality.

“Always planning to say something while your mind is elsewhere. Was it that impressive?”

I’d even been caught.

The Pejon seemed to realize immediately what I was concentrating on.

“Don’t rush it. After all, the power will eventually be yours to learn.”

“…You show me that and then tell me not to rush? That’s a bit contradictory.”

I knew he had done it intentionally.

In fact, he likely wanted me in this situation.

‘Go on, get tangled up in your thoughts.’

The fifth technique.

Only just starting to refine the fourth, and suddenly, he throws the fifth in front of my eyes.

On top of it.

“Even injuring yourself while you’re at it, huh?”

“…”

The Pejon didn’t respond to my words, evading eye contact.

At the same time, his gaze shifted toward his arm.

The one he had just been holding the rock with.

Shiver, shudder.

That arm was trembling slightly.

‘Oh boy.’

Looking at that made me exhale more than a sigh in frustration.

I had to force myself to hold it back.

“Did you really have to go that far? Thanks to you, it’s a complete wreck.”

At the end of the tournament.

Normally, we should have continued with additional sparring matches, but the tournament was called off after the Pejon and the Sword King’s duel.

The reason? No available sparring stage.

‘Honestly, I could’ve just fought on the ground….’

But sadly, this was Hanam.

The Martial Alliance was here, and it was the Martial Alliance that organized the tournament.

Would they dare start a martial arts event fighting on the ground after wrecking the sparring stage?

‘Not a chance.’

The Alliance was more particular about public perception than anyone else.

Such a shabby tournament wouldn’t be tolerated.

– “We shall proceed with the tournament upon the sparring stage’s reconstruction.”

And thus, that was the decision the alliance made.

Tsk.

Because of that, I was in a frustrating position.

‘My plans just got derailed.’

Plans I had meticulously set around the tournament date.

It would take only two days… maybe three at most until the sparring stage was ready again.

Thanks to having some backup materials prepared, we could manage with that—if we hadn’t been stuck here, who knows how long it would have taken.

‘Crazy bastards. Why on earth did you mix Evergreen Iron into the sparring stage?’

Mixing something that expensive would only prolong the time needed to build it.

‘They probably thought it wouldn’t break if mixed.’

Did they foresee it would all end up shattered and require a complete rebuild?

I wouldn’t have guessed it myself.

‘That the Pejon would be at the tournament.’

Not only had the Three Eminent Beings performed the Rejuvenation Technique.

But who could have expected the Pejon would join the tournament and unleash his secret weapon?

‘Seriously… it’s absurd.’

No one saw that coming.

As a result, Hanam today was buzzing with tales of the Pejon.

– “The Pejon’s successor, Tua Pacheon’s Bi Yi-jin, showcased overwhelming strength against the Sword King before forgoing.”

– “A shocking victory—could this be a flagrant affront to the Sword King?”

– “The late-stage talent Bi Yi-jin raises questions about the value of Tua Pacheon.”

– “Comparisons between the Shin Ryong and Tua Ryong—who truly is more powerful?”

Every conceivable rumor was aflame.

No embellishments could express that the conversations revolved solely around Tua Ryong and the Pejon at that moment.

One of the Six Seats.

The leader of the Pang Clan, known as the Guardian of Hebei, was left helplessly struggling on the ground.

That, too, against the late-stage talent of the Seo Anbi Clan.

No matter how much he was the Pejon’s successor, it was inconceivable for the Sword King to lose.

‘No… that’s not losing.’

It’s a victory.

An utterly humiliating victory.

When Tua Ryong declared his forfeit, the image of the Sword King shouting at him with a face filled with agony resurfaced.

“Don’t make me laugh; I’d rather die!”—that expression…

‘It was pitiful.’

Not exactly a glorious sight for someone known as a king-level martial artist.

‘Thanks to that, the masters of clans have gotten busy.’

The reputation of the Sword King plummets.

And with it, the shifting power dynamics in the Central Plains. The clan leaders who foresaw this would have started moving at breakneck speed.

A tournament they had prepared for over a year turned into chaos.

They shook the Sword King’s footing and altered the frozen movement of the clan leaders.

And it all happened due to just one sparring match.

The public was saying.

That Tua Ryong’s forfeit was a challenge to the Sword King’s standing.

While simultaneously demonstrating his strength and uplifting the standing of his master, the Pejon.

Everyone seemed to believe that.

“Did you really throw in the towel?”

“…Hmph.”

I knew.

I knew the Pejon’s condition was in total disarray.

Just a little observation could tell. More accurately, I noticed it through my Heart Eye technique.

‘The flow of energy is all knotted up.’

What used to be a steady flow of internal energy was now twisted.

He looked fine from the outside, but internally, he was a total mess.

The reason?

‘The aftereffects of Pacheon.’

That immense power he used in the tournament.

The recoil from the Pejon’s body after wielding it must have been tremendous.

Looking at that weakened state…. what should I say?

“…I think I could win if I hit you now… how many punches will it take?”

“…Huh?”

“Oh, my bad. I’m serious.”

“Are you joking, or… what did you say?”

The Pejon let out a hollow laugh.

Did he find me funny? I was serious.

‘If he really is a loser, then I might stand a chance.’

Given the current Pejon, it wouldn’t seem that challenging to win.

That shows just how weakened he had become.

Conversely.

‘Pacheon was a challenge even for the Pejon.’

The forced use and the recoil resulted in his forfeit as well.

‘With him trying to look fine while failing at it, it must have looked entirely different to others.’

An act of humiliation directed at the Sword King.

An embarrassing victory that would remain in the annals of the Martial Alliance.

Falling short against the late-stage talent, a Six Seat, and so on.

Thanks to all that, the Sword King was hearing all kinds of insults from the people of Hanam.

‘Was this intentional on his part?’

If this unpredictable old man had done that, then certainly.

“Why do you keep questioning it?”

With a sigh mixed in, I replied to the Pejon.

“I’m just wondering if you really needed to do all that. You could have won without going to those extremes.”

“If I was going to do that, why would I have gone out there? It’s only fun if there’s a bit of a twist.”

“This isn’t a movie, you almost got yourself killed.”

“If I die, you’d probably be the happiest.”

“Oh, that’s not entirely incorrect… oh crap. Just kidding, just kidding.”

I dodged the rock his hand sent flying. Man, it’s hard to even crack jokes.

At that moment.

“I was originally aiming to win, you know?”

The Pejon added, as if explaining the situation.

“Coincidentally, I thought I’d get to show something interesting.”

“Interesting? You mean that fifth technique?”

“Exactly.”

It was a loss to use Pacheon.

I was momentarily at a loss for words.

“What do you mean…?”

“Originally, Pacheon wasn’t meant to be this sort of martial technique.”

“Eh?”

I focused on his unexpected proclamation.

“It used to be a simpler technique where I’d explode the energy at the tip of my fist; however… this time I felt something good and tried to improve it.”

“Improve?”

My eyes widened hearing that. He really improved it?

Since it was a martial technique he created, it wasn’t strange to alter it.

But suddenly improving it felt odd.

As I gazed at the Pejon with curiosity.

“The inspiration came from your martial art.”

“…!”

I was taken aback by his words. He attempted to improve based on my martial art?

‘…Wait a minute.’

Was he hinting that the martial technique he drew inspiration from was—

“Flame Jade?”

“Correct.”

The Pejon affirmed my question.

That’s why the techniques of Pacheon and Flame Jade felt so similar.

‘Is it because Pacheon derived from Flame Jade?’

If that’s the case, then the question is…

“How did you succeed?”

What exactly was the source of Pacheon’s explosion?

‘Flame Jade is based on Fire Technique.’

It gathers heat and uses rotation to create friction.

This martial art explodes using the energy produced from that friction, but Tua Pacheonmu didn’t have any such firepower.

What principle guided its operation?

Doubts began to flood my mind.

“Curious, huh?”

Seemingly aware of my curious nature, the Pejon grinned.

“Well then, why don’t you go check it out?”

“Eh? Check it out?”

“Indeed. Since it’s based on your family’s martial art, finding it shouldn’t be too difficult. So go ahead and check it out. It’s your homework from me.”

“…Hold on, you’re just asking me to figure it out. That’s not as easy as it sounds.”

“When was my homework ever easy?”

“…”

That was right. Every assignment given by that old man had always been a pain.

And.

“This will actually help you.”

Damn it, it always helped too. There was no refuting that.

“It’s about time you try something like this too. Not for anything but…”

The Pejon paused before continuing.

“It’s for what you are attempting.”

“…!”

His following statement made me swallow hard.

My mouth instinctively closed, and I could only stare at the Pejon with trembling eyes.

‘What does this man…?’

He seemed to know everything.

That meaningful statement struck many chords within me.

Every word felt like a dagger piercing right through.

‘He’s unnervingly perceptive.’

It was suffocating.

Whether it be martial arts or that indecipherable expression, it felt like the Pejon had an otherworldly vibe compared to other martial artists.

Not a compassionate person nor someone with a broad heart.

‘He doesn’t seem human.’

His unique human-like essence was absent. The Pejon had always given off this feeling.

As I swallowed my quaking heart, standing still in my place.

“I won’t stop you.”

The Pejon kept speaking to me.

“It’s a dangerous endeavor, but if you were to be stopped, you’re unlikely to give it a try. It’s something only you can do. I’ll find it entertaining to watch.”

“…Okay.”

“However.”

A ferocious energy wrapped around his stoic gaze.

Chilling.

The moment our eyes met, cold shivers crept down my spine.

“Treasure your life. Remember, you must reach the heights you’re meant to achieve.”

“…Understood.”

My relentless resolve to keep my martial arts heritage alive.

That conviction was everything to the Pejon.

A man driven by his obsession with martial arts.

Just the sight of him was enough to take my breath away.

“Now that you’ve exhausted your questions, be gone.”

As if acknowledging the end of our conversation, the Pejon immediately dismissed me.

Telling me to scram.

I looked at him, feeling a sense of loss.

“Aren’t we sparring today?”

“…Your intentions are all too obvious.”

“How unfortunate… truly…”

Normally, I’d avoid sparring like the plague, but today, I absolutely wanted to fight him.

When would be another chance to beat the Pejon if not today?

I thought that, but unfortunately, it seemed the Pejon had no intention of sparring today.

Tsk.

I clicked my tongue and turned away.

Anyway, I had asked all the pressing questions. Without needlessly getting homework assigned to me, I needed to move quickly.

Simultaneously, the Pejon’s words echoed in my head.

– “For what you are attempting.”

“…”

What I was attempting.

While startled by the fact that the Pejon had picked up on it, I felt a bit relieved as he had implicitly granted me permission.

‘…I guess I can do it without tiptoeing around now.’

Recently, what I was attempting to do was.

‘Mixing Tua Pacheonmu with the Flame Jade.’

That was the crux of my experimentation.

A day passed since the main tournament ended.

A brief interval. Sure, only a night had gone by, but during that time, countless changes were unfolding in Hanam.

“Whoa.”

I found myself peeking out the window in awe.

Outside, since morning, the area buzzed with people waiting to catch a glimpse of Tua Ryong.

Some members of notable families even came and went, having learned that Tua Ryong had no engagement.

Of course, the Pejon didn’t seem the least bit concerned with any of it, yet there were still those fervently trying to catch his attention.

This made perfect sense.

‘He might just become the world’s number one.’

The title of the world’s number one.

A revered position, held by only one per century.

Given that the one closest to that title currently was a young man, everyone would try their best to get close.

The other candidate, Shin Ryong, belonged to Shaolin and was off-limits, while Tua Ryong was different.

He was a member of the lower-tier Seo Anbi Clan, not the eldest son, and wasn’t even engaged.

Why wouldn’t anyone covet him?

“You’re suddenly quite the heartthrob, huh?”

I chuckled and sipped my tea, observing the scene.

The Pejon was likely unconcerned, but seeing him struggle just a bit tickled my fancy.

What was it they said?

‘Shin Ryong and Tua Ryong will see each other as competitors and grow stronger together.’

Haha.

It was pretty amusing to think about. Here comes the legendary clash or whatever.

“Ugh….”

I felt goosebumps run down my spine.

Seeing the Beggar Clan quickly working their angles, this event was likely orchestrated by the alliance itself.

‘Having gone this big, it’s certainly hard to manage. They likely aim to take advantage of it.’

That might not be too bad.

It’s just the Sword King who ends up suffering from all this.

And then.

“…Thanks to them, I’ve gotten some unwanted trouble.”

As the Sword King’s reputation began to plummet, it disrupted my plans as well.

Due to that, I had to quickly send Cheol Jiseon and Jiegal Hyeok to assess the situation, but…

The guests arriving from the morning left me stuck in place.

‘Hmmm….’

I set my teacup down and gazed ahead.

The guest who found me early in the morning looked right at me.

Her white hair was neatly arranged and adorned with a hairpin, striking my eye.

Her wrinkles were reduced, and her fine makeup gave her an appealing vibe.

She was none other than—

“Why has the Sect Leader of the Emei Sect come to visit a nobody like me?”

The Powder Moon Fist Immortal—the identity of the visitor was revealed.

 

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