Chapter 33 - 32: Crucible of Power
Six copies against a Grandmaster, Jinmu thought, his mind calculating odds that seemed impossible even to contemplate. But I can’t retreat. Not with Hyeon Ryu in this condition. Not with Do Giseon’s plan still in motion. If I don’t fight now, everything we’ve accomplished becomes meaningless.
"Attack," he said quietly to his copies, the word carrying all the weight of a death sentence. "Coordinate pattern maximum. Everything we have."
The copies moved without hesitation, their forms blurring as they activated the techniques that had served them so well against lesser opponents. SHADOW MIST WALKER and GHOST BLOOM STEP combined to create a storm of afterimages, while SILENT DEATH STEP carried them across the chamber like whispers of death itself.
But Crimson wasn’t like the guards they had just eliminated. He was a Grandmaster, a martial artist who had transcended the normal limitations of human capability. As the copies closed in from six different directions, he smiled with the confidence of someone who had faced such odds before and emerged victorious.
He’s not even moving, Jinmu realized with growing alarm. Six Master-level opponents attacking simultaneously, and he’s standing there like he’s watching a performance.
The first copy reached Crimson with HEART OF THE LAST BLOOM, concentrating all available ki into a piercing strike aimed at the Grandmaster’s heart. The sword moved with the speed and force of a lightning bolt, its trajectory perfect, its timing flawless.
Crimson caught the blade between two fingers.
The sound of wood splintering filled the chamber as the copy’s weapon disintegrated under pressure that should have been impossible to generate. The copy staggered backward, shock evident even through his shared consciousness with Jinmu.
He stopped a full-power Master-level attack with two fingers. The gap between Master and Grandmaster is even wider than I thought.
The second copy tried FUNERAL FLAME BLOSSOM, the ninth and final form of the Blossom Flow Requiem. His body became a whirlwind of blade and ki, flame and petals combining in a storm that should have overwhelmed any single opponent.
Crimson moved for the first time, his own sword appearing in his hand like magic. A single horizontal cut, performed with casual precision, bisected the copy’s technique and sent him flying across the chamber to impact against the stone wall with bone-crushing force.
One technique. One movement. He dismantled our most powerful form like it was a child’s game.