Book 13 Chapter 6
The Second Testimony of Sword Master Yonggyeongui
"I assume you heard the preceding story from that legless old man, Jongsi."
The faces of the assembled crowd turned pale at the blunt, almost abusive words. Yet, the speaker seemed utterly unfazed.
"After that, this one-armed sword master will continue the tale."
The sleeves of U-su, who had once wielded the fearsome Yongcheon Sword alongside him, fluttered in the wind.
"We, ashamed, dared to harbor a vain hope of who would be the one to behead him and instantly become a hero of the martial world. We knew the first gate would be a failure, but we figured we'd dealt him a considerable physical blow, and all we had to do was catch the wounded prey. Our focus was solely on who would earn the honor of taking his head. Truly arrogant. It still puzzles me how we, who knew 'his' abilities so well, could possess such daring, confidence, and arrogance at that time. It was… yes, like a fever…"
"It was the strength of numbers, wasn't it? A pack of wolves can defeat a lion."
Bilyeon offered the answer without hesitation.
"Ryeon!"
Na Yerin reprimanded him in a low voice, due to his excessive bluntness. Why was this person so incredibly unrestrained? But Bilyeon acted as if he hadn't heard.
The old man's lips twisted into a bitter, wry smile. There was no thunderous roar or reprimand.
"Right! You're right. We profoundly underestimated his abilities."
Pain flashed across the old man's once lively face.
"I positioned myself here with 244 sword masters and formed a sword array. Jonggwi boasted he could halt his advance at the first gate, but I knew Jonggwi would fail!"
As expected, 'he' appeared at the second gate where Sword Master Yonggyeongui was waiting. However, it was truly unexpected that he bore not a single scratch on his body. It was then said that the Sword Master had hurled immense curses at Jonggwi.
"At that time, I truly chewed Jonggwi up and spat him out with a torrent of abuse. 'You empty-mouthed fool, you made such a big fuss, and this is all you could do! Die!' I said."
Indeed, by then, they hadn't expected Jonggwi to be alive. They thought his arrival here was concrete evidence.
"When I later learned Jonggwi was alive, I was truly astonished. I thought a dead man had returned. Although he ended up crippled, having lost both his legs! Well, it's a fitting pair for a one-armed cripple…"
When 'he' arrived at the second gate, where the Sword Master and the crowd waited to trap him with nets, the Sword Master and the audience finally realized their predictions had been far off the mark. He was brimming with a relaxed confidence, like a fisherman enjoying a swim or a climber enjoying scaling a mountain. He looked as if he had merely strolled into the woods for a walk in the backyard.
"It was as if he couldn't see the forest of 244 blades before him. He looked as if he had casually walked into a forest where unknown wildflowers bloomed in clusters, and unknown shrubs grew sparsely, as if just for play."
He seemed like a person who knew no fear.
"To think that I believed the head of Cheongyeobhyeolsin could be plucked like an apple from a tree when the time came, whenever I pleased! How foolish that was! That is perhaps the blind spot and the terrifying aspect of mob mentality. To act so recklessly, relying on the sheer numbers when gathered in one place. It was childish! Not knowing the harshness of the world…"
The Sword Master sighed as if regretting his mistake at that moment. His regret was palpable.
At that instant, a cool breeze swept over the shoulders of the assembled crowd.
Indeed, the name Cheongyeobhyeolsin was not in vain.
Despite the 244-to-1 odds, no one could be certain of their victory.
'He' spoke for the first time.
"Can this place entertain me?"
The reason wild wolves are sometimes more terrifying than lions is their aggregation into packs. Even the strongest and most valiant lions must yield to wolves that move in packs.
Yet, none of the 244 sword masters who formed the sword array could be sure of their superiority. 244 wolves had failed to overwhelm a single lion.
No, perhaps at that point, they had already transformed from 244 wolves into 244 rabbits. 244 or a thousand rabbits would instill no fear in a lion. They would merely fulfill their purpose as the lion's playthings or snacks.
"Is the preparation for the game complete? What will you do to amuse me?"
Sword Master Yonggyeongui stepped forward to answer on behalf of the group.
"We wish to see your swordsmanship. If you deem yourself worthy to be our master, prove your sword art here."
"He laughed at us heartily. He seemed quite amused. Then, he said with a mocking tone."
"Wouldn't it be faster to ask a fish to teach you how to swim, or a monkey to teach you how to climb trees? How pathetic!"
Though he mocked them, no one dared to retort. They were too overwhelmed just trying to compose themselves.
'He' paused for a moment before continuing.
"If you want proof, I will provide it. However, to see what you have not seen, could not see, and cannot see, a price must be paid. That price is the annihilation of existence. Are you truly prepared with such courage and resolve?"
"I still cannot forget that mocking gaze! Not when I'm awake, and certainly not when I sleep. I still cannot shake the feeling that those eyes are watching me from somewhere. To escape those eyes, or rather, to break free from them, I have not left this place for a hundred years, yet my body and mind still cannot shake off the gaze from that time."
Suddenly, the formerly spirited and hearty man looked as if he had aged a hundred years.
Recalling that moment, the old man felt his own insignificance. His loss of confidence seemed to be reflected externally.
"That price was already something we were prepared for! Not a single person thought they could reap rewards without sacrifice! Instead of being angered by the command to perform tricks, we unfurled the promised formation, the Two Hundred and Forty-Four Wolf Pack's Tiger Killing Formation (二百四十四 群狼狼牙殺虎陣). As the name suggests, it might have been a somewhat cowardly formation, but at the time, no one thought it was cowardly. And then, his hand slowly, very slowly, rose upwards."
Stopping his story, the Sword Master suddenly asked.
"Do you know what is terrifying about sword formations or sword arrays?"
When no one readily answered the question, the exemplary student Moyonghwi finally stepped forward to reply.
"It is the fact that a large number face a small number."
The Sword Master nodded at the answer.
"Of course, it allows for the creation of the most effective and economical movements to deal with a small number with a large one, but more importantly, it gathers the collective momentum of the many to overwhelmingly pressure the momentum of the few. The intangible aura binds the body like a spider's web ensnaring a fluttering butterfly. Most people lose before they even fight due to that aura. The rest is just a simple task of confirming the outcome! But…"
The Sword Master's gaze had already returned to the past, a hundred years ago.
'He' was as relaxed as someone out for a morning stroll. The Sword Master still couldn't forget that move from back then.
His hand, raised casually and lightly! At that time, no one could have guessed the terrifying consequences that hand would bring.
The hand that had risen simply came back down.
And… a path of red opened.
Even as the dense scent of blood and a cloud of red mist filled his vision, the Sword Master couldn't comprehend what had happened for a moment.
*Thwack!*
With a sharp pain, a long gash appeared on his right cheek, and blood flowed from the torn skin. He tried to remember when, where, or how it happened, but he couldn't.
Only then did he realize that a part of his body was already gone. Strangely, he felt no pain. He didn't even feel the pain from the wound on his cheek.
Everything felt detached from reality, as if it were a dream. His body felt as if it were floating in the world, with nothing to anchor it. He felt as though he were standing not on reality, but in the middle of a dream field.
'Huh? Is this a nightmare? I need to wake up quickly…'
But he could never wake up from the nightmare's paralysis. Instead, his vision darkened, and a shock that felt like it was burning all his nerves struck him.
"That… that was not human skill!"
The harsh hand of reality, which still woke him up from his deep sleep.
There would never be another move as terrifying as that single move in Sword Master Yonggyeongui's entire life.
It was no longer something that could be called skill or a technique. What he saw was merely a dark, black flash like a blade of darkness.
The old man, who was called a Sword Master, tried his best to maintain his composure while recalling that moment, but his attempts seemed to repeatedly fail.
A chill crept up the bodies of the representatives, crawling to the Baihui acupoint at the crown of their heads. Fear, like molten lava spewing from an active volcano, swallowed everyone's hearts like stones, then melted them into one. It was like a natural disaster; any resistance was futile.
Like figures decorated in frozen time, people's movements stopped. Faced with such overwhelming power, no one dared to rush forward. Even Sword Master Yonggyeongui, who was at the core of the Wolf Pack's Tiger Killing Formation, was no exception.
'He' walked leisurely as if taking a stroll on the path of blood he had created. The owners of the sharp blades stood motionless like stone statues. They looked like people caught in mass hypnosis.
His stroll stopped at a place where a giant, gleaming black wall stood like a folding screen. Stopping abruptly before it, he cautiously felt its texture with his fingertips, like an appraiser of fine swords, and then tapped it with the back of his hand.
While he was appraising the wall, his back was completely exposed. Exposing one's back to the opponent was the most forbidden act in the martial world, and it was equivalent to saying, 'Kill me!' His bare back was a more terrifying, irresistible temptation than the gentle touch of a fragrant beauty. It seemed to provoke them to attack, not to wait. Yet, no one dared to push through that vulnerability and attack. The Sword Master also hesitated to give orders. They were still intoxicated by the dense scent of blood, unable to escape their panic.
No, there was exactly one person. He was the sect leader of a prominent sword sect called Taedodo (太刀門), who had lost five younger brothers and three sons in a battle against Cheongyeobhyeolsin. His name was Mun Seoktae, and his sobriquet was Gyeongintaedo (驚人太刀), meaning "astonishing human great sword."
And he astonished the onlookers as much as his sobriquet suggested. As if an invisible barrier had been erected, his body, upon crossing a certain boundary, was cleanly cleaved into thirty-six pieces. There was no scream, and almost no blood spurted out. If one could witness such a sight and not be surprised, their heart must surely be made of steel. Even the meat in a butcher shop, sliced by the skilled hand of a master chef, would not be so cleanly and neatly cut.
It took a long time for people to perceive this situation, which still felt like an extension of a dream, as reality, or rather, to accept it as reality. After that, no one dared to challenge him.
'He' seemed quite fond of the wall.
Of course, people knew well what kind of wall it was. It was harder than cast iron, which ordinary swords couldn't even scratch.
"Since I've come this far, should I leave a commemorative signature? To silence these noisy dogs that prance around without knowing their place, sometimes the master's dignity must be shown!"
He slowly raised his hand and brought it to the rock.
*Swish, swish, swish, swish!*
It didn't take long for the pride of the rock, said to be harder than steel, to shatter into pieces. No one accurately grasped what had happened. All that was known was that sharp sword energy had erupted around him like a spider's web and then vanished like a mirage. And as if to prove it wasn't a trick of the senses, countless web-like scars appeared on the surface of the black rock wall, which had been as smooth as a mirror.
A moment later, having finally finished his task, he turned around.
"Huh? Were you still standing there?"
His face was flushed red with shame. Yet, he felt utterly pathetic, unable to utter a single word in response.
"Do you still have the will to challenge me?"
"……"
The answer did not come back, like an unanswered echo.
"It seems you lack the will and the courage. I wish you had attacked instead…"
Of course, he would have sent them all to the next world if they had attacked, but he was abandoning the idea because it was bothersome.
The Sword Master's knees buckled. Tears of regret streamed down his eyes like raindrops. He had never experienced such humiliation and disgrace in his life. And it was the first time he had ever felt so incompetent and powerless.
"Can I go up now?"
What more could he say?
"Oh, please, go ahead."
The formation that had been meticulously crafted by gathering all the renowned masters of the prominent sword sects was utterly destroyed before it could even be activated. It was a crushing failure.
Among the members of the sword array were individuals of the Jongsa (宗師) rank from prestigious families. Yet, none of them dared to oppose the Sword Master's decision. They merely lowered their heads, as if ashamed to look at the sky, and stared intently at the ground.
In truth, 'his' actions seemed as if he was leaving them to play with later, so as not to destroy all his toys at once. The humiliation caused by 'his' behavior was indescribable.
"When I raised my head again, he was already gone. I have never felt so insignificant as I did then! And then, we all made a promise."
It was a promise that needed no words.
'The events that took place here today shall be kept secret! Do not speak of it to anyone!'
If the truth of that moment were revealed, they would not be able to show their faces in the martial world, which valued face and honor. But perhaps even if the truth had come out, no one would have blamed them at the time.
"……"
A heavy silence pressed down on the assembly like a giant boulder. It felt as if a curtain of darkness had enveloped them.
"As you've probably guessed, this is that wall from back then. In other words, what remains on this wall are the scars. Evidence that remains vivid even after a hundred years of wind and rain. Whenever I see this, I am reminded that what happened then was not a dream. That's how unreal it was."
The old man would never forget that single move, etched into his eyes, ears, and heart, until the moment he returned to dust.
"We call this the Wall of Calamity Scars (劫痕壁)!"
The Sword Master continued, pointing at the black wall.
"Actually, the first emotion I felt from him was awe, rather than fear."
The miraculous divine power contained in that overwhelming move! It had something in common with the ultimate path he pursued.
"He left a message before he departed. 'If you can break through this move, challenge me anytime!' So I have been sitting here, guarding this wall, searching for a way to counter the technique. And…"
"And?"
"'I hope we can be interesting playmates the next time we meet!' That's what he said."
It was clear how devastating and harsh it must have been to realize their current reality, being so insignificant.
The common sense of the Ice Sword was now facing a great crisis.
The sword energy remaining in space, leaping across a hundred years!
The remnants of fear 'he' had etched endured the weathering of wind and rain for a hundred years, passing down that fear. The Ice Sword could still feel the thrilling sword energy emanating from each of these scars.
It was truly a terrifying thing. Even from this single facet, one could easily imagine how great and terrifying a figure 'he' was, fraught with fear.
*Clang!*
The Ice Sword suddenly drew his sword. A transparent, bluish sword energy formed along the blue blade, which shone coldly as if carved from ten-thousand-year-old ice. A chill that seemed to freeze even the air spread outwards from the pale, shining sword's tip.
Several onlookers flinched at the freezing chill.
"Ho ho!"
A flicker of admiration for this 'sword wielder' appeared in the Sword Master's eyes for a moment.
*Slash*
The sword was swung silently.
Another sword mark was etched onto the obsidian wall. It was of a level incomparable to the dao marks left before. Admiration and awe mingled in the murmurs of the onlookers.
However, the Ice Sword himself was not satisfied.
Beside it, several other marks from other challengers remained. Perhaps some of these were the Sword Master's.
The depth was much shallower, and the width much thicker. It lacked sharpness. He compared it to the original.
The sword mark left by 'him' contained an unfathomable energy that transcended a hundred years. Though difficult to describe in words, each scar seemed alive.
Even though a hundred years had flowed by like a river of time, it felt like a defeat.
After silently watching the actions of his rival for a moment, Yeomdo moved. A sense of crisis arose, as he couldn't stand by idly while the Ice Sword was drawing gasps of admiration from the onlookers. Competition must have also been ignited.
In any case, he couldn't stand to see the 'ice block' showing off so close to him.
As Yeomdo approached the Wall of Calamity Scars, the Jujak disciples stepped back slightly. This was practical wisdom gained from long experience.
"Hmm!"
He gave the Ice Sword a challenging look, then bowed respectfully to Sword Master Yonggyeongui, offering a brief greeting. It was a gesture of courtesy to a senior as a fellow sword master, which was so uncharacteristic of Yeomdo that it surprised several who knew him.
*Screech!*
A red blade, as if condensed flames, emerged from his sheath.
Soon, the flickering flame-colored blade began to burn the entire length of the blade. The heat radiating from the Hongyeom (Red Flame) sword tip caused some onlookers to flinch and step back. It was Sword Flame Energy (劍焰氣).
The Sword Master's eyes widened once more.
*Boom!*
A thunderous roar that shook the heavens and earth! The mountains trembled, and the atmosphere vibrated. If the Ice Sword's sword made little sound, Yeomdo's dao created a much greater roar.
"Cough, cough!"
A thick cloud of dust rose, making it difficult for people to breathe for a moment. Those who hadn't stepped back as far as the Jujak disciples had to bear the brunt of the flying pebbles.
"Huh? Wait, did you chop the wall with an axe? What kind of dao mark is this?"
The Sword Master said, his eyes wide.
At first glance, the difference between the two was evident. If the Ice Sword's mark was thin, sharp, and neat like a thread, Yeomdo's mark was thick, deep, and rough, as if it had been hacked with a giant axe. However, the immense power contained within was undeniable.
"As expected, he's an unrefined old man!"
Bilyeon grumbled as he brushed dust off his clothes, offering a single comment.
The superiority between the two was ultimately undetermined. Their martial arts were so different in nature that their traces alone could not determine the victor. Even for Sword Master Yonggyeongui, known as Il Do Dan Ae (One Dao, Never Hesitate), it was the same.
"But whose sword marks are these? They don't look old, but rather newly made?"
Moyonghwi said, pointing to a sword mark on the Wall of Calamity Scars. Although wide and lacking refinement, it contained terrifying power and momentum.
"Ho ho, sharp eyes! That was left by a child from the Macheongak."
'Macheongak!'
At these three syllables, the eyes of the assembly lit up. This was the opponent they would have to face. Without being told, everyone's gaze was drawn to that sword mark. Being able to know the enemy's abilities first meant gaining a superior position. One by one, they were engrossed in inferring the opponent's strength based on a single sword mark.
"And what about the Macheongak delegation…?"
Yeomdo asked cautiously and deliberately.
"Ah, those kids!"
Everyone had thought they had safely passed the second gate as well, but the answer that came back was entirely unexpected.
"They… were buried."
A very calm voice. It sounded like a part of a simple, ordinary conversation.
"B-buried? What do you mean?"
At first, he couldn't understand at all. Therefore, the Sword Master had to painstakingly help them understand. Muttering that he was unnecessarily tiring the old man.
How nice it would be if it could be understood with a single word! No need for two or three verbose sentences. However, humans are animals who frequently misunderstand since they learned to move their tongues. Therefore, detailed explanations are sometimes indispensable for smooth communication. Especially for humans with severely deficient reading comprehension.
The Sword Master decided to endure the effort.
"I mean they were buried in the ground! 'Pa!'"
"In the ground…?"
The young men, carrying the future of the hundred sects on their shoulders, yet seemingly not fully aware of it, still didn't seem to understand. To think that they still didn't understand even after such detailed explanations? Now, the Sword Master seemed a bit annoyed. There were few experiences more frustrating and irritating than a conversation where communication was not smooth.
"Those who are learned also call it burial (埋葬)."
"Gasp!"
Finally, they understood.
"How… how could such a thing happen…"
The young pillars protested, emphasizing the preciousness of life. The old man's reaction was indifferent.
"Do you think the weak deserve to survive in this martial world? The weak are synonymous with useless. This martial world does not lack thrift or excess to feed the weak."
It was a ruthless but truly logical argument based on economic principles.
"It was probably around here."
"Hurrrk!"
The eyes of the assembled crowd instantly flew to his fingertip.
Looking at it, the ground did seem not fully settled.
Perhaps they had each been made to dig their own comfortable graves, and then buried neatly!
Truly a heartless devil!
All sorts of imaginings raced through their vast cognitive structures.
"Including those buried so far, it's probably enough to make up two major sects!"
"Hurrrrkk!"
A voice devoid of any seriousness. The Sword Master was just casually pointing.
"Actually, you know, those corpses come out every night as faint specters wrapped in mosquito nets and showcase their unique martial arts. It's a demonstration of martial arts filled with resentment and curses. Every moment of their souls is imbued with the determination to defeat 'him'! Sometimes, they even perform techniques that can open one's eyes. There's so much to learn! I, too, have been advancing my martial arts by watching them over the past hundred years!"
This time, no different.
"Hurrrrkkk!"
The escalating astonishment erupted once more.
"This is impossible!"
"Unbelievable!"
"Truly astonishing!"
"Could I do it too?"
"You have to give high marks for the freshness alone!"
Various opinions, though explosive, emerged actively and proactively from here and there. In any case, it seemed like a serious conversation was taking place.
Suddenly, the Sword Master sighed as if the ground were sinking. The Sword Master's temples were throbbing. He could bet his entire fortune that it wasn't old age.
"Hoo. Please, don't be so easily fooled by things like this. I keep deceiving you because I find it amusing and absurd!"
A prisoner on death row, with disheveled hair, eyebrows as thick as caterpillars, a large saber sharp enough to instantly sever a bull's neck, piercing tiger eyes shining bluish in the moonlight, and a bear-like physique breathing savagery.
Sword Master Yonggyeongui surveyed the crowd and grumbled.
"Hey! Youngsters! Do I look like a cruel murderer to you?"
Silence!
The momentarily speechless assembly nodded inwardly, but no one dared to answer, for the sake of their lives.
"Sigh."
The Sword Master sighed again as if the ground were sinking. His empty sleeve seemed to flutter with his sigh.
"I was going to say it was a joke…"
When a joke returns as a truthful answer, a person becomes very awkward.
"But what is the test for this second gate?"
"What? Ah! The test! Hmm…"
It was a posture that could only be described as thinking about something that required no thought.
"Alright! Let's do this. If one of you leaves a dao mark better than the one left by that Macheongak child, I'll acknowledge it."
As Moyonghwi stepped forward, the Sword Master quickly stopped him.
"Are you going to challenge me with some measly sword? Didn't you hear me say dao marks?"
"Are swords and sabers not the same kind of weapon? I don't think it's right to make distinctions."
Grrr.
The Sword Master seemed at a loss for words. Petty excuses were forbidden for the sake of dignity.
"Do as you please! As you please!"
Finally, the Sword Master surrendered.
"I'll give it a try."
At that moment, someone stepped forward to cut in line. He was Ha Yunmyeong, the Storm Dao, leader of the Divine Eagle Squad (神鷹隊), direct guard of the Warlord's Meeting leader Maharyeong. The might of his signature technique, the Floating Dao Method (飄流刀法), had earned him fame as a co-winner of the Three Stars Martial Arts Championship.
*Whoosh!*
Ha Yunmyeong approached the Wall of Calamity Scars and drew his sword without hesitation.
*Clang!*
"Failure!"
Yongcheonmyeong declared without even seeing the result.
On an ordinary stone wall, the sound of Ha Yunmyeong's blade passing by wouldn't even be heard. The fact that such a sound echoed meant that the dao strike was not smooth.
*Tremble.*
His hand gripping the dao trembled. The wall was much harder than expected.
"Hey, young man! What about you? Would you be able to do it? If you are someone who has dedicated yourself to the dao, you shouldn't miss this opportunity!"
The elderly Conference Master said to Hyoryong, who stood among the crowd with a blank expression, his gaze fixed on the Wall of Calamity Scars. His low voice carried strength. And that strength sent ripples through one person's heart.
However, almost no one noticed this fact. Lee Jinseol, who was one of the many and never left his side, replied.
"Grandfather, what nonsense are you talking about? This person…"
Before she could finish, Hyoryong's feet began to move.
"Hyo…"
Lee Jinseol urgently reached out, but only grasped empty air. When she tried to chase his retreating back, the old man stopped her with his staff. It was a light gesture, but she was stripped of all possibility of movement. Like a sheep trapped in an enclosure, she couldn't budge.
Looking into his eyes, which seemed to be gazing at another world not focused, as seen through his disheveled hair, he didn't seem to have returned to his senses yet. The old man's eyes, watching Hyoryong's back as he pushed through people towards the wall, gleamed with a sharp and profound light.
"It seems his instincts as a martial artist are still alive!"
The Conference Master's voice was so low that even Lee Jinseol, who was beside him, could not hear it.
*Clang!*
It was just as the third challenger had failed.
"What the heck? How dare a cripple try to step forward?"
Pushing Hyoryong, who was trying to move forward by pushing past people, a spectator grumbled. He was from the Warlord's Meeting, and thus, he disliked Bilyeon and his entourage. To the Warlord's Meeting, Bilyeon was someone they kept alive out of necessity, unable to kill him.
However, the man's next words could not be continued.
"Go on, continue wagging your tongue. Shall we?"
Is there anything stronger than a beloved woman?
The man, trembling at the sharpness emanating from the two gracefully attached twin swords that seemed ready to snip off his neck, could only shake his head with a tearful expression. It was a good lesson on the consequences of wagging one's tongue carelessly.
'Perhaps I left him in a bad environment for too long?'
Dokgoryeong shook his head, bewildered by the unusually vigorous actions of Lee Jinseol, who had been cute and lively. They said environment makes the person. Suddenly, he began to worry deeply about his junior disciple.
However, the Conference Master smiled with satisfaction while watching the young lady's valiant actions and nodded his head, and Jang Hong, who was standing a couple of steps away, ready to punch the man in the face if necessary, also slowly relaxed his clenched fist.
"Would you like to give it a try?"
"……"
Answering with silence, Hyoryong drew one of the twin swords on his back. What moved him now was a voice echoing in his mind. An irrefutable command. What governed his actions now was the voice of an old man.
"It's bound to fail! What can someone who can't even properly hold himself up do?"
A sneering voice came from behind him. But it was merely an empty echo that passed over Hyoryong's ear. Instead, it provoked some of his friends.
At that moment, Hyoryong swung his sword.
It was a single sword stroke unleashed in a state of self-forgetfulness. And that single stroke drew out a martial art hidden deep within his body.
Amidst the dazzling flash of blood-red sword energy, a long sword mark was etched onto the black stone wall.
Instantly, a divine light flashed in the Conference Master's eyes.
"What was that blood-red light just now?"
Even Jang Hong, who was always with Hyoryong, had never seen such sword energy before.
Even Jang Hong could not easily dismiss the Sword Master's abrupt remark.
"A young man wielding a sword but performing dao techniques? How peculiar!"
Saying that, Yonggyeongui carefully examined the sword mark left by Hyoryong. If his skill was even slightly lacking, he had no intention of letting him pass.
"Hmm…"
After staring intently for a long time, the Sword Master finally opened his mouth and said.
"This is still far from enough!"
At that moment, disappointment was evident among the crowd. Especially Lee Jinseol, who was the most disappointed and dejected. Though she thought it would be difficult for the current Hyoryong, she had secretly prayed for his success, reciting the names of all the gods in the heavenly realm.
At that moment, the Sword Master's mouth opened again.
"However, considering his age, it can be considered quite excellent. If polished a little more, he'll be useful."
"T-then?"
To Yeomdo's question, the Sword Master nodded.
"You passed!"
Cheers erupted.
Bilyeon, seemingly uninterested in such matters, stared at the wall as if he could penetrate its very interior. He acted as if passing or failing had nothing to do with him.
He murmured in a low voice.
"Impossible…"
Someone saw his expression. It was Yonggyeongui.
Suddenly, his eyes widened.
Behind Bilyeon, as he placed his palm on the Wall of Calamity Scars, someone's shadow overlapped with his. Goosebumps prickled all over his body.
'No way!'
The Sword Master immediately denied his own thought. What he had just felt must have been a hallucination.