A single instant of carelessness, and one could be swallowed by Heaven and Earth’s qi and vanish without a trace—that was both the weakness and the strength of warriors who had reached the Realm of Martial Divinity.

Mae Wuidong stepped back a pace and set his sword upright.

Heaven-Earth Profound-Mystic Sword

Spring Flowers, Autumn Moon

Heaven-Earth qi swirled and gathered at his tip. It was soft and gentle like a spring breeze, yet inside it hid a terrifying will to kill. Sword-qi scattered like petals and flew toward Jo Taehwa.

Jo Taehwa’s eyes flashed.

Adamantine Thunder Sword

Thunder Lord Shakes the World

Thunder peeled from his blade. Heaven-Earth qi shifted into the form of lightning and struck Mae Wuidong’s sword-qi head-on. With a crash as if the sky were collapsing, the two forces collided.

KWA-AANG—!!

KWAA-AANG—!!

Explosions burst in succession, driving the surrounding warriors even farther back. Before a clash of masters at Unity of Heaven and Man, those at the Heaven-Earth Apex could do nothing else.

Only Unhwi was the exception.

Mae Wuidong cut a glance at Unhwi—still as stone—and, smiling, changed his sword art.

Heaven-Earth Profound-Mystic Sword

Seven Heavens’ First Foe

His sword suddenly split into seven afterimages. Each blade traced a different track and closed a ring around Jo Taehwa.

And yet, something was off. It was clearly a frontal, orthodox pattern, but a sticky undertone threaded through it. Like a drop of ink in clear springwater, the whole current had been subtly tainted.

Jo Taehwa knit his brow.

Something in the form had changed. A feeling, perhaps. Something had changed… but he could not be sure.

Tch.

Clicking his tongue, Jo Taehwa lifted his sword overhead.

Adamantine Thunder Sword

Adamantine Myriad Sunders

Golden qi exploded from his body. The vast sword-qi that burst from his blade scattered all seven of Mae Wuidong’s swords.

PWAAAANG—!!

Shards of Heaven-Earth qi blew out in all directions, setting the whole building—and Cheonsu Mountain itself—to trembling.

Jo Taehwa stared hard at Mae Wuidong.

“…Strange. Is this that vaunted Heaven-Earth Profound-Mystic Sword of yours?”

Mae Wuidong let out a short laugh.

“Seems you read something—unexpected. I didn’t think your eye that keen.”

Seeing the corner of Mae Wuidong’s mouth lift, Jo Taehwa gave a start.

This bastard… is that Mae Wuidong?

Something was wrong.

—This isn’t a sequence the Sword Knight put on for you to read. So pay it no mind, and let’s continue.

Mae Wuidong flashed a bright smile as he sent the soundless words.

“More than that—indeed, you are the Adamantine Sword Knight. But how about this?”

Mae Wuidong’s art shifted again. This time the sword itself writhed as if alive.

From nothing to being, and from being back to nothing—this is the truth of the martial path.

Between them lie yin and yang, tangled together to beget all things. That very current flowed from Mae Wuidong’s blade.

Heaven-Earth Profound-Mystic Sword

Yin–Yang Without Extremes

His sword-qi split suddenly into black light and white light; they braided together, forming a taiji.

Jo Taehwa’s face froze.

“Th—this is!”

The taiji-shaped sword-qi flew at the flustered Jo Taehwa. He swung in haste, but Mae Wuidong’s flow ran along his blade like water and—

Srrrip—!

—carved a long line across Jo Taehwa’s flank as it passed.

“Khff…”

Driven back, Jo Taehwa spat blood. His face went pale.

“You… what are you to the ‘Nine Heavens Sword King’?”

Mae Wuidong did not bother to answer.

“That the Alliance Lord of the Heavenly Alliance walks the demonic path—how shameless.”

Mae Wuidong shook his head.

“‘Demonic’… how rude. I am a proper orthodox warrior.”

“Then explain that sword art!”

“Regrettably, I see no reason I’m obliged to explain anything to the Sword Knight.”

“…You…”

“Still, since it was a fine bout, I’ll leave you the slightest hint. The Nine Heavens Sword King and I share a root.”

“…A root?”

“Yes. No more than that.”

Mae Wuidong slowly raised his sword.

This time a colorless, scentless qi welled from his blade. It looked like the empty air itself, yet hid a dreadful pull within.

Hardness breaks easily; softness yields easily.

But when hard and soft become one, it is invincible. When firmness holds softness, and softness holds firmness, only then can one reach a true martial state.

Heaven-Earth Profound-Mystic Sword

Returning to Void and Silence

Jo Taehwa, still refusing to loose his grip, gathered his last strength.

All the Heaven-Earth qi along his blade drew into one. With a crackling surge, a colossal pillar of lightning formed and thrust toward Mae Wuidong.

Adamantine Thunder Sword

Myriad Thunders Descend

KRRRRR-ROOM—!!!

After the clash, Heavenly Dragon Hall collapsed entirely, dust and stone fragments blasting out to shroud the field.

When the dust cleared, Jo Taehwa was on his knees.

His sword was snapped; blood kept pouring from his mouth.

Mae Wuidong still stood.

His clothes were a bit disordered, but he bore no great wound.

“As expected of the Adamantine Sword Knight. A fine match.”

Even in his courteous bow, ease overflowed from Mae Wuidong.

Among the Eight Celestial Seats, people named two who could serve as head: the Former-Sage Sword Lord Yu Jeonghyeok, and Mae Wuidong.

Mae Wuidong showed that such an appraisal had not been given in vain.

Jo Taehwa coughed blood and forced the words out.

“Who… in the hell are you…”

“You did not know?”

Mae Wuidong smiled.

“I am the Alliance Lord of the Heavenly Alliance.”

Smiling, Mae Wuidong swung his sword.

Srrrip—!

Jo Taehwa’s head hit the ground.

Shaking the blood from his blade, Mae Wuidong turned his head.

He felt every startled gaze upon him, yet looked to only one person.

That man was not flustered at all; rather, he met the gaze with an emotionless face.

It was, strangely, a hard feeling to name.

Alike.

Like looking into a mirror.

Seol Unhwi.

Mae Wuidong, holding Unhwi’s eyes for a time, smiled softly and spoke.

“Now the world will hear the will of our Heavenly Alliance.”

***

Unhwi had watched Mae Wuidong without missing a single moment from start to finish.

And his impression was simple.

Strange.

Unhwi did not lack for knowledge of the history behind the name Heaven-Earth Profound-Mystic Sword.

Once, while in Seolap, Unhwi had passed two martial arts to a man.

Heaven-Extreme Obeying-Heaven Sword Art and Heaven-Extreme Defying-Heaven Sword Art—those two.

They were the very arts he had handed to Yang So.

Those were the secret styles of the Heaven-Extreme Sword Emperor Han Cheonwu, one of the Ten Great Masters of the martial world, who split Mount Wudang in half during the Thousand-Year Turmoil some eight hundred years ago. It is told he had a single disciple.

That disciple had such a rebellious streak he moved opposite Han Cheonwu’s words; he caused all manner of incidents and was ultimately expelled. After Han Cheonwu’s death, however, that man began to stand out in the martial world.

His name was Baekhon. In time, among the swordsmen counted the very best under heaven, only a handful bore the epithet “Sword King”—and Baekhon was ranked high even among them.

The harmony of yin and yang.

Exploding its essence to form the taiji, mixing heaviness within softness and softness within heaviness to draw and redouble openings—until the killing stroke arrived in an instant so subtle the foe did not even realize it.

Dress it up if one wished, but simply put, it was a high art among high arts.

Moreover, it was unmistakably an orthodox art—and that was what made it so strange.

As Jo Taehwa felt, so did Unhwi.

Jo Taehwa had read the essence hidden in Mae Wuidong’s sword as “heterodox”; Unhwi read it as “demonic.”

A demonic current hidden within yin–yang’s flow.

To mix another system into such a high art is something only a rare genius could do—and looked at another way, if he wished to hide it, he could have hidden it completely.

Orthodoxy and the demonic are fundamentally at odds. To run both currents in one body risks falling into qi-deviation—yet he carried it off as if it were natural?

A truly peculiar man.

In the memories of his past life, Mae Wuidong had “vanished,” not died.

How long had he lived?

Did he die at all?

If he did not, where did he go after the Heavenly Alliance dissolved?

A genius who could found a still higher discipline even while mixing demonic method into orthodox art—what would such a man do? No—what did he do?

Who in the world is he?

A man at Unhwi’s level could see it.

Whether this was one who would die soon, or one who would claw and survive.

Mae Wuidong was clearly the latter.

And such a man must possess one thing by necessity.

A feel for the air.

“Now the world will hear the will of our Heavenly Alliance.”

As he looked at me and said so, Mae Wuidong sent a soundless message at the same time.

—Are you satisfied now, Heavenly Arbiter?

Unhwi looked at him in silence.

—I have nothing to do with the Thousand-Year Demon Cult or the Original Blood Cult. As a warrior, I only wish to open a path that integrates into one all ways—orthodox and demonic, heterodox and tyrannical.

Only after hearing those words did Unhwi’s face soften as he looked at Mae Wuidong’s gentle smile.

There is no perfect person in this world.

There are only people who strive to become perfect.

Through decades of experience, Unhwi knew.

Mae Wuidong belonged to that sort.

There was only one difference.

Mae Wuidong mistook himself for perfect; Unhwi was striving.

Unhwi thought:

Men of that sort, in the end, consider the most «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» ideal finish to any matter to be to cook the hound once the hare is dead.

He had seen it too many times.

Gun Mugyeol of the Martial Alliance; “Moyong Namcheon” of the Sichuan Alliance; Yu Cheong of the Original Blood Cult; Yeon Songbaek of the Ihwa Sword Heaven Sect.

And now Mae Wuidong before his eyes.

Unhwi had gained a great harvest today.

Regardless of what Mae Wuidong harbored, or where his future pointed—Unhwi now knew what kind of man he was.

He had just gotten the answer he most wanted.

So he smiled.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep