‘No. This is that bastard’s scheme.’
Seon Woojin’s true strength lies in the sword; he bears the title Sword King and is profoundly versed in swordsmanship.
Hadn’t he even defeated Fist King Seok Chi-haeng—who had always been compared to him—with a single sword technique?
Though he publicly claimed to have obtained the Martial Emperor’s secret techniques, he had never once properly displayed the Martial Emperor’s martial arts.
‘He must have studied my techniques for a long time.’
Seon Woojin was a man whose resourcefulness matched his martial prowess.
Clinging like a water ghost and using fist techniques might be nothing more than a ploy to force him to reveal his secret ultimate move—and then strike him down instantly with miraculous swordsmanship.
‘Don’t get agitated. Dragging this out doesn’t mean I lose.’
Yuk Jangcheon suppressed his rage and responded calmly.
—Could it be that Hall Leader Yuk’s martial arts were all reputation and no substance?
As the close-quarters combat between Bu Eunseol and Yuk Jangcheon dragged on, the watching martial artists began to wear expressions of incomprehension.
How could Yuk Jangcheon—a grandmaster of fist-and-palm techniques—fail to overpower Seon Woojin, who primarily used swordsmanship?
—Or has he been neglecting his martial training all this time?
Yuk Jangcheon had ascended to the Four Gods and Seven Kings more than twenty years ago.
Ambitious as he was, he had gathered followers and close associates to form the Nine Heavens Society, a martial alliance, only to be betrayed in the end, leading to its miserable dissolution.
Yet he rose again like a roly-poly toy.
At Yuk Cheongah’s suggestion, he re-entered the Martial Alliance as the Ascendant Martial Hall Leader and entered a second golden age.
He weathered all manner of storms within the Alliance’s atmosphere, guiding the young and mingling with others.
But had he grown complacent in this comfortable life and neglected his training, causing his martial arts to regress?
—The level of this spar is below expectations.
Even the mid-level elders watching from the stands could no longer hide their disappointment.
A battle between supreme masters should display profound and transcendent techniques, or at least moves of unimaginable, terrifying power.
Yet the current match between Seon Woojin and Yuk Jangcheon was merely crude and desperate.
For two masters who stood shoulder-to-shoulder among the Four Gods and Seven Kings, their display was frankly disappointing.
Swish! Thud!
Sweat was already beading on Yuk Jangcheon’s forehead as he poured out attacks.
He kept trying to create distance and unfold the Fire Cloud Palm Method, but Bu Eunseol had no intention of allowing it.
And the fact that this situation was even possible… was proof that Bu Eunseol’s fist techniques were in no way inferior to his own Fire Cloud Palm.
Unfortunately, the only ones who could appreciate such prowess were the handful of Martial Alliance mid-level elders on the platform.
To most of the spectators, only disappointed sighs escaped their lips.
‘I underestimated this bastard.’
After becoming the Ascendant Martial Hall Leader, he had focused more on building connections with the mid-level elders than on training his martial arts.
Because the Martial Alliance was a place that ran on hierarchy, seniority, and personal networks.
Desperate to climb ever higher, he had fully adapted to the wild jungle that was the Alliance.
‘They’ll think my martial arts have declined.’
But that was a misconception on the part of the martial artists.
Yuk Jangcheon had never forgotten.
To survive in the wilderness of the Martial Alliance, one had to possess a personal weapon from the very beginning.
He had never once let that truth slip from his mind and had continued training in secret.
He had deliberately kept his efforts hidden, so few people realized he was still diligently honing his arts.
‘Even after all that effort, I’ve been caught up by this greenhorn?’
Yuk Jangcheon bit his lip.
‘No way in hell.’
Finally reaching a decision, he raised his Protective True Qi to the maximum.
He deliberately took one of Bu Eunseol’s fists to create distance, then prepared to unleash the Fire Cloud Palm Method once more.
Boom!
With an explosive sound, Yuk Jangcheon—who had intentionally let the punch land on his shoulder—rapidly backed away.
Though it hadn’t pierced his Protective True Qi, he staggered as though he had taken a real hit.
‘Got him.’
Forcing down the pain, Yuk Jangcheon prepared to deploy the Fire Cloud Palm.
But he had misjudged one crucial thing.
Bu Eunseol had reached a ghostly, unpredictable level not only in martial arts but also in footwork.
Swish!
In an instant, Bu Eunseol closed the gap again and resumed close-quarters combat.
“You bastard!”
Yuk Jangcheon finally roared in fury.
Regardless, Bu Eunseol did not stop, pouring out fist techniques one after another.
All this time, while wandering the martial world, Bu Eunseol had fought countless life-or-death battles against powerful experts.
Among them were some even stronger than Yuk Jangcheon.
And ever since the advent of the Infinite Step Awakening, it was as though they had been waiting—superhuman powerhouses threatening life itself had appeared one after another.
Thus, since emerging into the martial world, Bu Eunseol had not rested from martial training for even a single day.
While eating, he contemplated the principles of martial arts; while sleeping, he studied martial scriptures.
If Yuk Jangcheon was an ancient treasured sword that had long resounded in fame, then Bu Eunseol was a divine sword meticulously maintained and sharpened every single day.
When the two clashed, the outcome was as clear as fire.
Papapak!
Bu Eunseol deliberately used simple yet ugly close-range techniques in succession.
One moment a fist, the next raking with nails, ramming with his body, or headbutting without hesitation.
Outwardly they looked crude and vicious.
Yet the emission and timing of each move were terrifyingly precise and swift, forcing Yuk Jangcheon to be continuously pushed back.
—Is that really the skill that earned Hall Leader Yuk the title Palm King?
—How can the Palm King, master of fist-and-palm, be overwhelmed by the Sword King’s close-quarters combat?
Hearing the murmurs, Yuk Jangcheon felt as though his head would explode with rage.
His martial arts had not declined.
It was simply that Bu Eunseol’s level was so high that he had been able to conceal his true techniques.
But only a tiny handful of masters had seen through that fact… so most of the martial artists continued to speak ill.
—Is that really the martial art of a Four Gods and Seven Kings member?
—He spent every day cozying up to elders and throwing money around. Could it be even his seat among the Seven Kings was bought?
Buzz buzz.
The whispers had turned into open chatter.
As the ceaseless ridicule rang in his ears, unbearable fury surged within Yuk Jangcheon.
In pure fist technique alone, Bu Eunseol’s Seven Fist Demon Forms could never match his Fire Cloud Sword Seal Palm.
Yet by clinging like a water ghost, and fighting like a dog in extreme close range, biting and tearing, he was forcibly holding on.
The match could not be decided quickly, and only Yuk Jangcheon’s long-established prestige was being utterly tarnished.
‘Why hide anything at this point?’
Finally resolved, Yuk Jangcheon raised his inner energy to its absolute limit.
His goal had never been merely Martial Heaven Commander—it was the next Alliance Leader.
The reason he had trained so long in secret was to create an ultimate technique capable of defeating the other Commander candidates should the need arise.
He had kept it hidden because revealing it publicly would render it unusable against them in the future.
But with his dignity crumbling in this drawn-out humiliation, he could hide it no longer.
Rumble rumble rumble.
As Yuk Jangcheon poured every ounce of power into his energy, the entire sparring platform began to shake.
Sssss.
At the same time, Bu Eunseol’s body was involuntarily pushed backward.
The overwhelming aura pouring from Yuk Jangcheon had forcibly repelled him in one go.
Sarararang. Sarararang.
Soon, accompanied by metallic clinks, hundreds of round orbs of light floated around his body.
Palm Spheres—something that could only be created after reaching three hundred years of inner energy mastery.
Kwawoong!
But that was not the end.
With an explosive roar, the Palm Spheres suddenly transformed into a single streak of airflow, soaring upward and becoming a beam of light connecting heaven and earth.
This was the very essence and culmination of all the palm arts Yuk Jangcheon had accumulated.
He had named it Palm Line.
Within that single line of light dwelled his lifetime’s inner energy and the distilled essence of a lifetime of palm mastery… making it utterly impossible to shatter or block by any means.
“If you can block this, then you win…”
Yuk Jangcheon’s words trailed off unfinished.
At some point, strange sword-qi had enveloped his own body.
—How can sword-qi remain so perfectly still?
—Could Sword King Seon’s swordsmanship have reached the realm of Stillness without Motion… allowing him to emit sword-qi free of the constraints of time?
Bu Eunseol wore a faint smile.
He had not suddenly ascended to such a realm.
This sword form was merely a trick—a bizarre sword move designed specifically for a moment like this: when the arrogant Yuk Jangcheon would pompously prepare to unleash his most powerful technique.
It was meant to instantly disrupt the completion of that move and make him explode with frustration.
Ruin and reputation in equal measure.
—Hall Leader Yuk loves to show off, so when he deploys his ultimate technique he will deliberately take a long time, basking in its grandeur.
Bu Eunseol had already analyzed Yuk Jangcheon’s personality down to the last detail and at the moment he began the preparatory stance for Palm Line…
Bu Eunseol instinctively recognized it as his true killing move and immediately unfolded his art, completely blocking the attack before it could finish forming.
«Your preamble is far too long.»
Bu Eunseol sent a covert transmission.
«It must have been a very long time since you last fought an opponent of similar caliber in earnest. That’s why you resorted to such sloppy theatrics.»
The time Yuk Jangcheon had spent grandiosely gathering energy to create Palm Line was, in truth, merely a fleeting instant.
But to Bu Eunseol—who had spent his life locked in mortal combat with powerhouses—it had felt tediously, yawn-inducingly long.
Tremble tremble.
Yuk Jangcheon’s body quivered violently.
The Palm Line he had created was a one-hit-kill technique; once fully deployed, it could never be evaded or blocked but because he wanted to flaunt its majesty, he had performed an excessively drawn-out preparatory stance.
And Bu Eunseol had seized that opening, wrapping sword-qi around his body before the Palm Line could fully form.
‘In this state, he cannot unleash the true power of the Palm Line.’
Rumble rumble rumble.
The energy already gathered in Yuk Jangcheon’s hands was enough to shatter Mount Tai.
Even the martial artists who had previously mocked him now discarded their scorn and gazed at him in awe.
—It’s over.
Yet the true masters present already knew the victor had been decided.
To unleash a strike of thunderous, myriad-jolts power, body and mind must become one, pouring every ounce of strength into a single blow.
But having been preempted, Yuk Jangcheon’s heart was already divided.
The sword-qi Bu Eunseol had laid out would drastically reduce the force of the strike.
In the end, Yuk Jangcheon had no choice but to lose.
Tremble tremble.
Even though he held in both hands power capable of destroying everything,
Yuk Jangcheon could only tremble—unable to release the Palm Line.
‘Have I… become a frog in a well?’
The Palm Line had not been created through fierce battles against strong enemies.
It had been born in solitude while he struggled within the Martial Alliance to raise his status and seize power.
Thus he had failed to realize that its excessively long preparatory stance was ill-suited for facing an ultra-powerhouse like Bu Eunseol, who had crossed countless lines between life and death.
“Hall Leader. Let’s stop here.”
Ziiing.
Bu Eunseol withdrew his sword-qi.
Wearing an expression of regret, he slowly approached the motionless Yuk Jangcheon.
“It seems there’s no point in continuing.”
In that instant, light flashed in Yuk Jangcheon’s eyes.
The moment Bu Eunseol drew near, the sword-qi around him vanished—exposing hundreds of openings across his body.
‘Your arrogance has brought about your own end!’
The match was not yet decided.
Yet Seon Woojin had approached slowly, completely defenseless.
Kwaang.
Yuk Jangcheon struck Bu Eunseol’s chest with full power as the latter reached out to support him.
It was a sudden, opportunistic ambush.
Moreover, the Palm Line was a secret art capable of destroying anything.
In the end, Bu Eunseol could not avoid it and was sent flying all the way to the edge of the platform.
“Pfft!”
Crimson blood sprayed from Bu Eunseol’s mouth.
Having taken Palm Line bare-chested and defenseless, every bone in his body must have shattered.
Only death remained.
Buzz buzz.
The murmurs from the spectators grew even louder.
Of course, even though victory had not been fully decided, Bu Eunseol’s act of approaching to support him as though he had already won was hasty for a martial artist.
But how could a senior of the Martial Alliance fail to seize such an opportunity for a surprise attack?
Considering his status as a Commander candidate and his seniority…
It was an utterly despicable act.
“Do you admit defeat?”
Ignoring the crowd’s buzz, Yuk Jangcheon spoke solemnly to the blood-spitting Bu Eunseol.
“If you don’t receive treatment soon, you will die.”
“I will continue.” Wiping the blood from his mouth, Bu Eunseol drew his sword once more.
“Very well.”
Seizing the chance, Yuk Jangcheon unleashed palm force without pause.
Determined never to lose the initiative again, he poured everything into his palm techniques.
But something strange happened.
The man who should have been dying from catastrophic internal injuries—his face was flushed with vitality, his eyes blazing with divine light.
‘This bastard tricked me.’
Yuk Jangcheon realized Bu Eunseol had deliberately exposed openings.
‘But how?’
No matter how many times he replayed it in his mind, the Palm Line had definitely struck Bu Eunseol’s body.
So how could he fight in such perfect condition?
Even if he had used the Diamond Indestructible Body, once hit by Palm Line there should be no hope.
‘That clothing.’
Only then did Yuk Jangcheon notice that the fabric around his chest—where he had been struck—was torn diagonally.
‘He used a sword technique specifically designed to be hit.’
The sword-qi Bu Eunseol had displayed was a feint.
In truth, his final art was a variation of the final supreme technique of the Thirteen Iron Sword Forms: Return Heaven Restore Sun.
Return Heaven Restore Sun was the pinnacle of the soft redirection principle—capable of returning all force.
It was a sword art that wrapped gentle sword-qi around the body to evade enemy attacks.
Of course, that alone could not dissipate the power of the Palm Line.
Using inner energy exceeding five hundred years, he employed the subtleties of “transformation” and “point deflection,” turning his body as elastic as a rubber ball submerged in water, completely diverting the impact point of the overwhelming force.
In short, relying on supreme swordsmanship and inner energy, he had put on a life-risking performance.
All to reveal Yuk Jangcheon’s low character to the martial artists.
But Yuk Jangcheon, unable to guess the truth, could only feel chills run down his spine.
‘Just how high is this bastard’s martial art?’
As uncontrollable distraction arose, his hands and feet grew chaotic, unleashing incomplete techniques one after another.
Moreover, having seized victory through a despicable surprise attack at the cost of public criticism—if he lost now, there would be no place left for him.
‘Never. That must never happen.’
Yuk Jangcheon tried to steady his mind.
But deep down he already knew.
Every plan he had built had collapsed. There was nothing more he could do.
In this life-and-death struggle, Yuk Jangcheon felt the deepest despair imaginable.
Clang!
At that moment, Bu Eunseol spotted an opening, flicked away the iron-hard palm with his sword, and—
Shlick.
In an instant, the sharp sword tip was pressed against Yuk Jangcheon’s throat.
‘He had trained to such a level of swordsmanship?’
Yuk Jangcheon stared blankly.
Why hadn’t he used this sword technique from the beginning?
A single precise thrust exploiting openings like this could have decided the match long ago.
A small smile appeared on Bu Eunseol’s face.
As their eyes met, Bu Eunseol silently sheathed his sword. He cast a gaze of pity.
Pity for Yuk Jangcheon, who had once built the Nine Heavens Society only to be betrayed by comrades.
Pity for the miserable future that now awaited him.
‘It will be unbearable.’
Bu Eunseol knew.
For a man who had lived his entire life on nothing but pride and self-regard, to receive pity from his enemy at the final moment—what that would do to him.
And this was Bu Eunseol’s last move: to send Yuk Jangcheon into an irretrievable abyss.
Kwaang!
With an explosive sound, Bu Eunseol was sent flying three jang like a snapped kite string.
Having lost all reason, Yuk Jangcheon had unconsciously unleashed another palm strike into Bu Eunseol’s chest.
In an instant, a deathlike silence blanketed the sparring platform.
“I…”
Only then did Yuk Jangcheon come to his senses and look around.
The gazes of the Alliance martial artists fixed on him were all icy cold.
Even the elders on the platform—who had desperately wanted him to become Commander—had eyes frozen in chill.
Turning his head, Yuk Jangcheon looked at Bu Eunseol.
Though clutching his chest and bleeding, a faint smile hung at both corners of his mouth.
From the moment he stepped onto the platform, he had been an opponent he could never match in either martial arts or strategy.
He had been thoroughly entangled in spider silk, reduced to meaningless resistance.
“Hahaha…”
Finally realizing everything, Yuk Jangcheon suddenly burst into loud laughter.
“Hahahaha!”
That laughter carried bottomless despair and resignation.
“Hahahahaha!”
The endless, wretched sound of his laughter sent shivers down the spine.
“Seon Woojin.”
Looking at Bu Eunseol, Yuk Jangcheon nodded.
“I admit defeat.”
With those words, Yuk Jangcheon turned away.
As he walked off the platform with his back turned, his eyes were completely dead.
Everything was over.
He had exposed his lowest depths before all the martial artists of the Alliance.
There was no longer any place for him here.
‘Hall Leader Yuk. Did you truly not foresee such an ending?’
Though Yuk Jangcheon departed in the most wretched, crawling manner imaginable, not a trace of pity could be found in Bu Eunseol’s eyes.
He had sworn long ago.
To raise Yuk Jangcheon high into the sky, then bring him crashing down in the most miserable way possible.
That was why he had never released the scandalous materials he had prepared while working under Yuk Jangcheon.
Instead, he had deliberately guided him all the way to the final test, allowing him to believe he could defeat both himself and Baek Museong to become the Martial Heaven Commander.
He had analyzed and re-analyzed the man called Yuk Jangcheon, studying what things would remain as eternal regrets in his heart.
Betrayal and pity.
Those were the two things he could not endure.
And so Bu Eunseol had turned the spar into a single theatrical performance.
Unsettling his spirit, provoking it, plunging him into rage and despair, destroying his enemy’s soul without lifting a finger, just like the methods of the Demon Heaven Emperor.
And just as he had sworn in the past, he had lifted him high, let him soar freely, then sent him plummeting in one devastating fall.
“The winner is Seon Woojin, Supreme Corps Captain!”
At Paeng Jong-heon’s shout,
—Waaaaaaaa!
Cheers poured from every direction.
The new generation of the Four Gods and Seven Kings had defeated one of the old generation.
It signaled that even the seats of the Four Gods and Seven Kings were entering a new era.
Now only two Commander candidates remained: Baek Museong and Seon Woojin.
One of the two new-generation masters would be chosen…
An unprecedented upheaval in Martial Alliance history had been confirmed.
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