Jin Baek walked off the training ground in a daze, his expression still blank, as if he hadn’t fully processed what had just happened.

What I had shown him wasn’t anything extraordinary.

Individually, they were all just basic principles.

But when put together, their meaning shifted.

One must wield the right sword at the right moment.

That was the core of my martial arts philosophy.

And for Jin Baek—who had learned the Nine Palaces Divine Traversing Sword, a style built on seamlessly linking countless techniques in countless ways—it would serve as valuable insight.

As I sheathed my sword, I finally became aware of the murmurs from the surrounding Wudang disciples.

“He looks about the same age as Baek… How is he this strong?”

“The Elder did warn us, but still… I didn’t expect this.”

“Even among the second-generation disciples, how many could match that?”

It was understandable that they were astonished.

From what I had observed while touring Wudang, most third-generation disciples were still in their teens and generally ranged from third-rate to second-rate in skill.

That meant they were around my apparent age, which was likely why Jin Baek had been chosen as my opponent.

The second-generation disciples, on the other hand, were mostly in their twenties and thirties, with the majority being first-rate and a few reaching the peak realm.

But even those at the peak realm were still far from the level I had attained before my regression.

For those unaware of my secret, I must have seemed utterly incomprehensible.

Now that things had turned out this way, was the sparring over?

Jin Baek had been an exception—I had used the duel as an opportunity to teach him, which made the match look unusual.

But against a second-generation disciple, I could hold back appropriately and have a proper duel.

I waited for a while, hoping for another challenger…

But when no one stepped forward, I sighed internally and began stepping down from the training ground.

It was at that moment—

“Haha. Didn’t I tell you all? This young master is far stronger than you expected.”

The Third Elder, Jeon Il-bi, approached me, placing a firm hand on my shoulder as he addressed the disciples.

His grip was strong, as if to stop me from leaving.

I halted, curious, and the Elder chuckled.

“First, let me thank you. I didn’t expect you to go that far. Thanks to you, that rascal Baek will grow significantly from this experience.”

“It wasn’t anything special. It just happened that way.”

“Ha! You’re being modest. But isn’t this a good thing?

Watching old friends leave one by one over the years is a sorrowful thing…

But seeing young ones forge new bonds is always a great joy.”

“…Why are you suddenly making this embarrassing?”

“I just hope Wudang can be a good connection for you.”

“I think it already is.”

“I’ve heard many things these past few days from that Ghost Shadow Thief friend of yours.

I’ve also seen it with my own eyes.

No matter who steps forward, I doubt you’ll find this duel satisfying.”

“That’s not necessarily true.”

“You say that, but you must be feeling unsatisfied, no?”

I remained silent, and the Elder continued,

“Don’t worry. I have something in mind.”

“I really don’t mind if it ends here.”

From the start, I had never expected anyone at the disciple level to be a true match for me.

Perhaps the great disciple chosen as the next sect leader, currently training in the Flowing Cloud Sword, could provide a challenge.

Or maybe one of the Elders.

My martial skills before regression had already reached a level where only individuals of that caliber could stand against me.

And right now, there were only second-generation disciples present.

I had known this from the beginning, so I had long abandoned the idea of a balanced duel.

But—

“As I see it, the disciples of Wudang are not lacking. It’s just that your talent surpasses your age. Isn’t that so?”

“…That’s a rather burdensome compliment.”

“And yet, despite that talent, you still chose to share your martial knowledge with Wudang’s disciples. Even knowing there was no direct benefit to you.”

“I’ve received things from Wudang, too. It’s only fair to give something back.”

“Haha. You speak of fairness? Then consider this—If Wudang were to be too rigid with a young master not even past his coming-of-age, what would that do to our reputation?”

The Third Elder suddenly spoke in a loud voice, making sure the surrounding disciples could hear.

I tilted my head in confusion.

Then, with a sly grin, he said something completely unexpected.

“So, this time, I shall be your opponent.”

“…What?”

“Just as you shared something with Jin Baek, I wish to impart something to you.

And I seem to be the only one here capable of doing so.”

“…Are you serious?”

“Of course.

Truthfully, I didn’t say much at the time, but I was quite curious.

How is it possible for someone as young as you to possess such martial prowess?”

A duel between junior disciples and a duel against an Elder carried entirely different weight.

That was why I hadn’t expected it from the start.

But now—

The Third Elder, Jeon Il-bi, had personally offered to duel me.

The dull disappointment I had been feeling instantly vanished.

Excitement surged within me.

“Let’s begin immediately.”

“Ha! No hesitation at all?”

Jeon Il-bi let out a disbelieving chuckle before stepping to the opposite side of the training ground, drawing his sword from his waist.

Srrng.

The sword’s scabbard was old and worn, and its hilt had been smoothed down from years of use.

It looked almost pitiful.

But the blade itself gleamed with a sharp, freshly-honed edge.

A well-maintained sword.

And proof that its wielder had not neglected his training.

As I drew my own sword and took my stance, the Elder spoke.

“I’ll grant you three moves.”

“I won’t hold back, then.”

The moment I finished speaking—

Boom!

I kicked off the ground.

Not just an ordinary burst of speed, but an explosive acceleration, strong enough to create a small shockwave near my Yongcheon acupoint.

With a loud impact, the ground cracked slightly beneath me.

And in just two steps, I reached my maximum speed.

“Hm.”

I closed the distance in an instant.

Then, I stomped down powerfully, converting all my momentum into raw force, channeling it directly into my sword.

A diagonal slash—

A strike imbued with the essence of Force, aimed at Jeon Il-bi’s chest.

However—

Chang!

Though I had swung first, his blade struck mine an instant earlier, hitting the base of my sword.

It didn’t matter how much force I had concentrated into a single point.

If the direction of that force was disrupted, it would scatter.

Before my attack could fully manifest, he had dispersed its power.

It was a technique I often used myself, but experiencing it firsthand after so long was startling.

“Hoo. That was quite the powerful strike.”

“And you’re incredibly fast for an old man.”

“This is the Taiyi Scattering Light Sword.

One of the oldest techniques in Wudang, dating back to when Zhongnan Mountain was still called Taiyi Mountain.”

“…Is it really okay to reveal that?”

“This isn’t a battle to the death, just a friendly duel. At worst, I’m only giving you the name of the technique.”

Jeon Il-bi shrugged as he spoke, but even if it was just a name, I couldn’t take it lightly.

A martial art’s name often contained the essence of its philosophy.

From his sheer speed alone, combined with the name Scattering Light Sword, it was clear that his technique focused on rapid swordplay.

That meant my response was simple.

Thud!

I stomped down again, raising my sword—not to channel power into it this time, but to solidify my stance.

With my lower body firmly rooted, I swung my sword straight down.

Heavy. Even heavier.

No matter how fast a blade was, if it clashed with mine, I would force it back.

Rather than concentrating power into a single point, I distributed it throughout my entire body and unleashed a strike fueled by raw weight.

Speed often meant lightness, and lightness could never overcome heaviness.

Unless—

Boom!

A dull impact.

Once again, Jeon Il-bi aimed at the base of my blade, but this time, my sheer force prevented him from disrupting my strike.

Instead—

Srrng—

He smoothly redirected my sword, guiding its trajectory away from him and into the ground.

Exactly as I had expected.

For a martial artist of his caliber, this level of counterplay was natural.

And since he was deliberately allowing me three free strikes, his options were limited—his only real choice was to redirect my attack.

A grin crept onto my lips as I took a bold step forward—

Right into Jeon Il-bi’s personal space.

So close that it was no longer a swordfight, but practically a hand-to-hand combat range.

Twisting my body, I adjusted my grip.

With the blade held horizontally, I aimed the bottom of my sword’s hilt directly at his solar plexus.

At this distance, he wouldn’t have time to parry or counter with his own sword.

“Hooh!”

With a short exclamation, Jeon Il-bi suddenly leaped back, swinging his sword—not to strike me, but to deter my pursuit.

Swish.

His blade grazed my bangs, neatly slicing off a small portion of my hair.

Even though I had already taken a step forward, putting me in the perfect position to press the attack, I remained still.

That was why.

He hadn’t managed to fully endure my three strikes.

In the end, he had been forced to swing his sword at me.

Jeon Il-bi clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Well, now. I’ve wielded a sword for decades, yet here I am…”

“I believe you only conceded two strikes. Would it be too much to ask for one more?”

“Ha! That’s all you’re getting. Enough stalling—come at me properly now.”

“How unfortunate.”

He grumbled, but the smile tugging at his lips was impossible to hide.

I was likely wearing the same expression.

We shared a brief laugh before straightening our stances once more, raising our swords toward each other.

And then—

Pa-bat!

This time, Jeon Il-bi moved first.

His long beard fluttered as he charged, exuding an aura of a Daoist sage—

But in his hands was a deadly, razor-sharp blade.

Sswaeek!

His sword slashed toward me at a speed almost too fast to track.

Unlike before, when he had merely received my attacks, this time, his intent was clear—

He aimed to cut me down before I could even react.

That said, it wasn’t beyond my ability to counter.

As his sword raced toward my chest, I twisted my body and took half a step back.

His blade narrowly missed, skimming past my robes.

And in that fleeting moment when his defenses were open, I thrust my sword forward.

Not a slash—

A stab.

A direct, linear strike aimed at his shoulder.

Difficult to recover from if it missed, but the fastest way to reach the target.

Just as my sword was about to pierce his shoulder—

Kaaang!

A diagonal flash of steel abruptly intercepted my attack, knocking my sword aside.

“…What?”

Rather than retrieving his sword for another strike, he had continued rotating with his previous motion, using the momentum to accelerate his next attack.

Was it even possible to execute such a large movement so quickly, without any prior preparation?

For a brief moment, I was caught off guard.

But then—

Ah.

This was Wudang’s swordsmanship.

Techniques I once thought impossible to chain together—

In the hands of a true master, they seamlessly connected, flowing like a river.

Unlike me, who wielded the sword to strike at the opportune moment—

His sword made every moment the opportune moment.

“Haha!”

A laugh escaped me.

We were alike, yet so different.

“You can laugh in a fight?”

Jeon Il-bi blinked, looking somewhat exasperated.

But come on—wasn’t this too much fun?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep