A duel isn’t necessarily limited to warriors of similar strength.

If there is a significant difference in skill, it can also serve as an instructional match, where the stronger fighter guides the weaker one through direct combat.

Of course, in a friendly duel meant to showcase each other’s martial arts and foster camaraderie, it makes sense to pit opponents of comparable levels against one another…

That said, it wasn’t unreasonable for them to misjudge my abilities.

I didn’t normally exude my aura recklessly, so they could have easily underestimated me.

The Third Elder had warned them in advance that I was far stronger than I appeared, but considering my unimposing presence and young age, they must have assumed I was at best at the early first-rate level.

As for my opponent, Jin Baek, he was at the peak of the second-rate level, meaning our difference in martial prowess wasn’t glaringly obvious.

Furthermore, he was a third-generation disciple, around the same age as me, making him a seemingly well-matched opponent.

The Third Elder looked a bit troubled by the situation, but while the pairing was unexpected, it wasn’t something I found unreasonable or frustrating.

What truly surprised me was that Jin Baek was a familiar face.

“…Hmm. Young master, it seems I didn’t explain things properly…”

“It’s fine.”

I shook my head at the Third Elder’s cautious tone, then turned to my opponent and gave a polite salute.

“My name is Cheon Hwi-da. Pleased to meet you.”

“Y-Yes, sir!”

Jin Baek, sensing something was off, hesitated for a moment, glancing around at the others before giving a small nod and drawing his sword.

Despite already exchanging greetings, he awkwardly repeated his bow.

It was a clumsy habit of his—one he still hadn’t outgrown even years later, when he was nearly thirty and could no longer be called a youthful prodigy.

As I drew my own sword, I took a closer look at Jin Baek.

His face was noticeably younger than I remembered, yet his features were undeniably the same.

The memories came rushing back.

Before my regression—when the Demonic Cult had begun its invasion, when the Nine Great Sects and the Five Supreme Clans started to collapse one by one, when the Murim Alliance, in desperation, formed an uneasy alliance with the Black Lotus Sect.

At the time, I was still within the Black Lotus Sect, but I wasn’t affiliated with any particular faction within it.

After Ironblood Hall fell, after I lost Seo Mun-Hwarin and Seol Lihyang, after I somehow managed to avenge them and, in the process, reached the transcendent realm—earning the title Sword Demon.

Despite that, I had never led a military unit nor held a high-ranking position within the sect.

Just as Seo Mun-Hwarin had once served as the Ironblood Hall Master, only fulfilling the bare minimum of responsibilities without deeply involving herself in the sect’s affairs—

I had done the same.

Aside from carrying out a few personal tasks assigned by the Black Lotus Sect Master, I had spent my days wholly devoted to the sword.

At that point, my title suited me—I had nothing left but the sword.

Though the Sect Master had always been wary of Seo Mun-Hwarin, myself, and Seol Lihyang, he had still been the first to rush to Ironblood Hall’s aid when it was attacked.

The man had no tolerance for anyone who could potentially challenge his authority.

But if someone did challenge him, he was swift and ruthless in his response.

Seo Mun-Hwarin had undoubtedly been a potential rival, but she was also a member of the sect, and she had dutifully fulfilled her role.

No matter how personal his grudge, the Black Lotus Sect Master could never forgive the Black Sky Sword Emperor and the warriors of Black Sky Sword Sect for invading his own territory and massacring Ironblood Hall.

Even when I was half-mad, consumed by my internal demons, he had aided me.

The Black Lotus Sect Master could never be considered a good person, but he was an excellent leader.

That was how he had managed to unite the heretical martial world for the first time in history.

But the important part of all this was that at the time, I had already lost Seo Mun-Hwarin and Seol Lihyang—before I met Tang Sowol.

In other words, it was the period when I had sharpened my edges against everything around me, when my very presence was like a drawn sword.

And that was when I first met Jin Baek.

A survivor of Wudang’s destruction, one of the scattered remnants of the fallen sect.

He had answered the Murim Alliance’s call and volunteered to participate in the uneasy, experimental coalition with the heretical sects.

At the time, he was at the entry-level of the peak realm—a remarkable achievement considering that many warriors remained first-rate their entire lives.

But it was far from enough.

Not enough to avenge Wudang.

Not enough to restore its name.

And standing before him was someone his age who had already reached the transcendent realm—the Sword Demon.

Jin Baek had begun relentlessly asking me to teach him.

Sometimes he followed me for an entire day, pestering me.

Other times, he knelt before me, pleading.

But back then, I had no patience for such things.

There was nothing in my mind but the sword.

I lived for the sword, and I knew I would one day die by it.

That was why they had given me that title.

I had ignored Jin Baek’s requests.

Every moment spent teaching was a moment I could have been swinging my sword instead.

Even if I had agreed to teach, my techniques were meant for me alone.

They would have been ineffective in the hands of another.

And more than anything—

At the time, there had been nothing for me to learn from Jin Baek’s sword.

But he had been desperate.

With Wudang’s sudden destruction, most of its treasured techniques had been lost.

The martial arts Jin Baek had learned were decent, but they were far removed from the legendary techniques that once defined Wudang.

To one day defeat the Heavenly Demon and destroy the Demonic Cult, to rebuild the name of his fallen sect, he needed a new divine technique to replace the Flowing Cloud Sword.

He had humbled himself before many swordsmen, seeking their guidance.

But the results had been poor.

Few were willing to share their techniques.

And Jin Baek himself had struggled—torn between his Daoist roots and the hatred and killing intent that had tainted his blade.

His grand ambition was commendable, but his skills and circumstances had not aligned.

And in the end, he remained stuck in place.

That was when the Murim Alliance and the Black Lotus Sect fully joined forces.

All the remaining peak-stage masters of the orthodox world set a trap to kill the Heavenly Demon.

Jin Baek and I were among the warriors assigned to keep the rest of the Demonic Cult at bay.

It should have been a simple task.

No one—not even the Heavenly Demon—could withstand an assault from eight peak-stage masters.

Or so we thought.

But things never go as planned.

The Heavenly Demon slaughtered every single one of them.

And soon, we found ourselves trapped—facing the Demonic Cult from the front and the Heavenly Demon approaching from behind.

Desperate and with no escape, Jin Baek burned his Primordial Origin Qi to carve a path through the cultists—giving me a chance to flee.

When I asked him why he would throw his life away for me, his answer was simple.

“Because you’re stronger.

If I survive, it changes nothing.

But if you survive, there’s still a chance to avenge us.”

So instead of saving himself, he asked me to avenge him.

In the end, I couldn’t withstand even a single strike from the Heavenly Demon and was defeated.

But the fact remained—I owed my life to Jin Baek.

It was a debt I had never repaid, one that had lingered in the back of my mind for years.

And now, unexpectedly, I had the chance to settle even a small part of it.

Srrng—

I slowly drew my sword and settled into a stance.

Feet shoulder-width apart, arms centered, and the sword tip aligned with my line of sight.

The most basic stance.

But that was all I needed.

The sword I was about to wield carried no complex techniques or profound mysteries.

I wasn’t sure how strong the present Jin Baek was, but before my regression, neither of us had anything to gain from each other’s swordsmanship.

But now, things were different.

Jin Baek, his expression a mix of tension and anticipation, waited only until I had fully assumed my stance—then charged forward.

“Haaah!”

His speed wasn’t particularly fast or slow.

But his movements were light—just as I had seen in his previous duel—ready to change direction at any moment.

I watched his blade sweep diagonally toward me and responded with a simple horizontal slash.

Chaaang!

His sword was deflected in an instant.

His arm and shoulder twisted from the force, throwing his stance off-balance—but it wasn’t enough to neutralize him completely.

Jin Baek barely managed to correct himself and launched another strike.

Considering he had just lost his footing, the power behind this next attack was impressive.

I recognized this technique.

Jin Baek must have trained in the Nine Palaces Divine Traversing Sword.

This time, his blade came down in a vertical slash aimed at my head.

But I noticed something—the slight tremor at the tip of his sword.

He was still shaken from how easily his previous strike had been repelled.

So I simply raised my sword slowly and let his blade rest against mine.

Kagakak!

A sharp scraping sound filled the air as our swords locked in place.

But this wasn’t a contest of strength.

“…Huh?”

Jin Baek’s sword had become stuck against mine, as if glued in place.

Whenever he tried to thrust, I subtly pulled back in sync with his movement.

And whenever he tried to retract, I pressed forward, maintaining close contact.

That didn’t mean he could freely control his sword’s movements.

Every time he attempted to swing, the influence of my blade subtly altered its trajectory, steering it off course.

It was the principle of adherence.

With internal energy, I could have easily turned this into an outright counterattack.

But there was no need for that.

“Ugh! Ngh!”

Jin Baek struggled, swinging his sword wildly in an attempt to break free.

I decided to speak.

“A vertical slash is better executed with decisive force rather than half-hearted variations. And no matter how flustered you are, your sword tip must never waver.”

“…What?”

Jin Baek blinked in confusion.

I gave him a slight smile before continuing.

“It’s the same principle now.

If something isn’t working, don’t stubbornly force it—find another way.

Stay calm.

Don’t panic.

Never stop thinking about how to change the situation.”

“…Huh?”

Jin Baek’s confusion deepened.

I chuckled and added,

“What’s the point of having footwork if you’re not going to use it?

If you can’t win with the sword, then create distance.”

“…Oh.”

A look of realization dawned on his face, and he quickly leaped backward.

From that moment on, the duel followed a predictable pattern.

Jin Baek swung his sword at me.

I deflected his attacks and pointed out his weaknesses.

I wasn’t entirely familiar with the Nine Palaces Divine Traversing Sword, but I could tell it wasn’t just some light and flashy technique.

At first, Jin Baek seemed irritated by my interference.

But as our exchanges continued, his expression grew increasingly serious.

He had realized that I wasn’t mocking him—I was genuinely trying to teach him.

After about forty exchanges, I had corrected every obvious flaw I could see.

And Jin Baek was beginning to tire.

So I ended it.

With one final, powerful swing—

Kaaaang!

A sharp metallic ring echoed through the air as Jin Baek’s sword was sent flying, landing far away.

“…Ah.”

For a moment, Jin Baek just stared at his empty hand in a daze.

Then, as if he had just awoken from a long dream, he quickly lowered his head and clasped his hands in a respectful salute.

“I lost. Thank you for the guidance.”

“It was a good duel.”

At the very least—

I had done my part.

I could only hope it was enough.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep