Chapter 139
After dropping off my belongings in the guest room, I followed Namgung Jong to the training grounds, a satisfied expression on his face as he walked ahead.
“By the way, you looked like you were training just a moment ago. Aren’t you tired?”
“I’m fine. I sweated a little, but not enough to say I’m tired. And even if I were, I wouldn’t want to miss an opportunity like this.”
“Well, it's not every day you get the help of a supreme master.”
Before or after regression, I had regularly sparred and received instruction from Seorin. After Tang Sowol reached the Flowering Stage, she too had taught me.
So, while I consider it somewhat routine, in truth, receiving instruction from a Flowering Stage martial artist is an incredibly rare experience.
It's not just because they are hard to come by in the vast Central Plains. Each one of them has reached the pinnacle in their respective fields. Their pride, as well as the circumstances of their families or sects, often make them hesitant to offer their guidance freely.
Take the Sword Demon, for instance. By now, he's probably quietly gaining power in the Demonic Cult's territory. On the surface, he seems like a perfectly normal person.
Though whether a person who does nothing but eat and swing a sword can be considered normal is up for debate, he’s still about average by Murim standards.
Back when the Orthodox Alliance was being pushed back by the Demonic Cult, he had even hidden himself within the Namgung Clan disguised among martial artists on the run. Still, a cultist is a cultist. While the Sword Demon is an odd one, he definitely harbors a darkness deep in his heart.
He waited for the right time, opened the back gate, and lured in other cultists—eventually revealing his true colors.
Though the Heavenly Demon at the time was off battling Shaolin alone and wasn’t there...
The Sword Demon was one of the most powerful martial artists even within the Demonic Cult. The cultists are known for their tricks and temporary power boosts.
The Sword King, who had once been wounded after being overwhelmed by the Heavenly Demon despite setting up a joint formation, as well as Namgung Jong—then known as the Azure Sky Sword Master—and other key members of the Namgung Clan all joined forces.
Yet, they were unable to overcome the Sword Demon and his assisting demons, and in the end, the clan was annihilated.
There’s still a long way to go before that happens, and I intend to prevent it as much as possible...
Still, the fact that the prestigious Namgung Clan, famous for its swordsmanship, was wiped out and that I’d never again witness their blades—that part was truly regrettable.
That’s why having the chance to experience it firsthand like this is quite exciting.
I did watch from afar during the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering, but... facing them directly is an entirely different matter.
As I was inwardly brimming with anticipation, Namgung Jong slowly shook his head.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Hmm? Then…”
“I meant the opportunity to cross swords with a martial artist like you, Blood Flame Sword Demon.”
Startled for a moment, Namgung Jong quickly added when he noticed my reaction.
“Oh, that’s right. Didn’t you say you dislike that nickname?”
“I wouldn’t say I dislike it. So it’s fine.”
It’s the same nickname I had in my previous life. And even now, it was given by the same person. So, I do feel strange hearing it, but that’s all.
Unlike Seorin, who truly dislikes being called by her nickname, I don’t mind.
“I was just surprised that you’d evaluate me so highly.”
“Huh. What nonsense. If someone has even seen you fight once, they’d say the same as I did. Anyone with some discernment would.”
“That’s a little embarrassing.”
“I mean it. I might be wrong, but… Brother Cheon, haven’t you become much stronger than you were during the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering?”
“How did you know?”
That caught me off guard. I’ve indeed reached full Sub-Perfection Mastery, but I’ve never been the type to exude my presence everywhere I go.
Whether then or now, the energy I release externally hasn’t changed. That means he didn’t sense it from my aura alone.
And it’s not like it was my first time reaching this stage, so things like steady footsteps or balanced movement wouldn’t be obviously different.
Unless we had already crossed swords, figuring it out this fast shouldn’t be easy unless he’s someone of a higher realm than me.
As I tilted my head in puzzlement, Namgung Jong gave an awkward smile and spoke.
“It’s nothing special. It’s just that both the Sky-Winged Poison Phoenix and the Pure Sound-Frostflower were clearly stronger than when I last saw them, so I figured you must be as well.”
“Ah, I didn’t expect you to deduce that much.”
Well, rumors probably spread quickly about how our group ran off with Peng Woojin and Yeon Ga-hye.
The clan heads, having no way to contact us, must’ve been panicking. Then they all suddenly gathered in the Yeon Clan and, a few days later, showed up looking for us.
And now, if the growth of my companions is noticeable... it clearly means something happened.
Something they overcame successfully.
Martial artists are like seeds that bloom under hardship. Namgung Jong’s guess was quite sharp.
Though what he really cared about was something else entirely.
“Now that we’ve finally met, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask… Is Woojin all right? What happened to him?”
“Oh, he got a little hurt, but with treatment, he’ll be fine. As for what happened… let’s save that for later. Either rumors will reach your ears soon or Brother Peng will come greet you himself.”
“Rumors? Brother Peng? ...Well, as long as Woojin’s alive and well, that’s what matters. If he’s alive, he’ll reach out before dying.”
Namgung Jong exhaled deeply, visibly relieved. Around that time, we arrived at the Namgung Clan’s training grounds.
I’ve been to the training grounds of the Tang Clan, Zhongnan Sect, the Murim Alliance, and the Yeon Clan, but the Namgung Clan’s grounds were far wider—and more extravagant.
Why a training ground needed to be fancy, I had no idea.
As Namgung Jong stepped into the ring and placed a hand on the hilt at his waist, he asked,
“Shall we begin right away? Brother Cheon, if you need time to rest after the trip, I can wait an extra quarter-hour.”
“A quarter-hour sounds too short. Still, I’m fine.”
With a light smile, I drew my sword and stood across from him.
Namgung Jong’s eyes lit up as he observed my blade.
“Heavens. Is that sword really made of solid black iron?”
“It is. You’re the first to recognize it.”
“Haha! Well, there aren’t many sword users around you. But the sword looks excellent... it doesn’t quite suit you.”
“It’s not originally mine, so it can’t be helped.”
“It wasn’t originally yours…?”
“It belonged to the Master of Black Heaven Sword Sect, the one who gave me my nickname. I’m planning to have it reforged by a Tang Clan blacksmith to suit me.”
“I see. So that’s the story. Brother Cheon, how about a little wager?”
“A wager?”
“I already know I can’t beat you in a duel. Our realms are different, after all. But don’t you wonder what would happen if we fought using only pure swordsmanship?”
“...Huh?”
Blinking at the unexpected words, Namgung Jong continued with a confident smile.
“Let’s duel using only the bare minimum of inner strength—focus purely on swordplay. If you win, our clan’s blacksmiths will reforge that sword for you. I know the Tang Clan’s smiths are more skilled in general, but when it comes to swords, I believe the Namgung Clan is a step ahead.”
I glanced at Tang Sowol. She nodded vigorously.
So Namgung Jong’s claim must be true—while Tang blacksmiths may be better overall, swords are the Namgung Clan’s specialty.
“Alright then. If you win... hmm.”
Come to think of it, I don’t have much to offer.
Sure, I could ask Tang Sowol to give him something, but with his status, he could probably get anything the Tang Clan offers on his own.
He’s not just a beloved son of his clan like Sowol is—he’s the next head of the Namgung Clan.
And of the Five Supreme Clans, the Namgung Clan is currently the strongest. He lacks for nothing material.
There’s only one thing I truly own that he might want.
“If you win this duel, I’ll teach you a sword technique of mine.”
His eyes sparkled—just as I expected.
“How much are you willing to teach?”
“I’ll show you during the match. You may choose any except the final technique.”
“Perfect! You’re saying you’ll show me all your sword techniques, aren’t you?”
“Not all, really.”
“No worries. I wasn’t expecting everything to begin with. But if you’re going that far, I’ll do the same—I’ll show you everything I’ve got!”
Ever since I learned the Namgung Clan served as the imperial family’s sword instructors, I had suspected it.
If it meant improving his swordsmanship, Namgung Jong would be willing to reveal some of his clan’s techniques.
The same goes for me.
The real problem comes only when one’s true martial art spreads and people learn how to counter it. Hiding everything else is just selfishness.
Most don’t share their techniques because they want to use them to gain power or status.
In my case, even if someone learned the key phrases of the Raging Wave Death-Stealing Art, they'd probably end up losing their mind before they ever got to use it properly.
Anyway, from what I’ve seen, Namgung Jong is someone who obsesses over the sword, not profit. So, this approach should work—and it did.
Smiling brightly, he assumed his stance. His well-maintained blade gleamed as he spoke.
“I’ll begin with the Great Evolution Sword Art. It’s the first sword technique we learn after mastering the basics. Every member of the Namgung Clan learns it at least once.”
“Then I’ll show you the Blood Wolf Sword. It’s nothing special. I learned it from a drunk third-rate martial artist after buying him some honey water.”
It’s the matching sword technique to the Blood Wolf Art—the first martial art I ever learned.
Honestly, the original Blood Wolf Sword was absolutely pathetic. A third-rate technique that matched its third-rate foundation.
Compared to the Great Evolution Sword Art, which is low-grade but well-grounded in fundamentals, it’s no match.
But in the end, more important than a strong martial art is the strength of the person wielding it.
I’ve seen swords stronger, faster, and more precise than mine—but most of those wielders died by my hand.
“It should be somewhat useful, at least.”
“Heh. I’m sure it is.”
With a smirk, Namgung Jong suddenly kicked off the ground.
Paht!
A step focused on maintaining balance, with little in the way of flourish.
His sword cut through the air in a clean arc—
Kkang!
—and my roughly swung blade deflected it cleanly.
Thus, the duel began.
***
“Big Sis Tang, is there any real point in dueling with those outdated, low-level sword techniques?”
“Of course there’s value. Though not necessarily great. Martial arts branch out like trees—your current skills usually encompass your past ones.”
“Hmm… So you’re saying that if they use their strongest martial arts from the start, they’ll already understand everything they could’ve learned from the weaker ones?”
“Something like that. In Cheon’s case, his martial background is quite mixed, so it’s hard to tell—but at least in Sword Dragon’s case, that holds true.”
“Then why are they doing this?”
“Because it’s fun.”
Saying this with a questioning tone, Tang Sowol's comment made Seol Lihyang’s expression twist.
Yet even then, Tang Sowol didn’t take her eyes off the duel, smiling softly.
“Just let them enjoy themselves.”
“Okaay…”
Seol Lihyang nodded, though her face showed clear confusion.