A dull sound erupted.

Fortunately, No Gwanyeong blocked it with his elbow, or the match would have ended in that single blow.

"Keuk!"

But did blocking mean there was no impact?

The shape of the fist's bone was felt clearly on his arm, and the pain traveled through his arm to his side. His entire body was lifted off the ground from the force behind it.

However, No Gwanyeong was an experienced martial artist.

The moment the fist dug in, he unleashed a palm strike toward Cheonyeong's opening.

The Ghost Hand technique, as its name suggested.

Paa-aak!

Almost simultaneously, Cheonyeong and No Gwanyeong exchanged one blow each and retreated, creating distance between them.

"Ugh."

Cheonyeong was not unscathed either.

Despite twisting his body to avoid the palm strike that came suddenly, the impact was considerable, and a thin line of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as the internal energy dug in.

A glancing blow was this severe.

If it had been a direct hit, he would surely have suffered serious internal injuries.

Swik.

Cheonyeong wiped the blood with his sleeve and grimaced, sneering.

"Damn, you counterattack in that instant? That's impressive. Your bones must be quite sturdy?"

"Shut up! You shameless bastard!"

"What? Shameless?"

"Using your fist without using hidden weapons? Such shamelessness! Such depravity! You don't even have a speck of respect for elders!"

Was the pain greater than expected?

No Gwanyeong repeatedly bent and straightened his aching arm, then glared at Cheonyeong with an angry face.

But something seemed odd about his words.

Why was using a fist more despicable than using hidden weapons?

"Phew, I can barely breathe. If I hadn't blocked in time, I would have ended up sitting in a back room in my old age doing who knows what."

"Tch, don't exaggerate. You even counterattacked in the meantime. My heart nearly burst from that glancing blow. Look, you can see the blood?"

Cheonyeong showed his blood-stained sleeve and argued back.

"I wish it had been that way. Damn bastard, other guys get beaten and die just fine, but how are you so tenacious?"

"What's wrong with that? After all that talk about your younger brother, is this what you say? You're actually cursing me to die?"

"Shut up, you bastard! I've suffered far more losses!"

It was sincere.

The Ghost Hand, the invisible palm.

It was a swift palm technique, and it was called that because it represented the extreme of deception.

How many renowned masters had fallen to palm strikes that erupted from unexpected places? Even famous masters knew of it and still fell to his Ghost Hand.

That single palm technique had elevated him to the ranks of the Ten Heroes, and countless people in the world revered his name. Some even said that beneath the name of the Western Three Sovereigns, there existed the Ghost Hand.

Yet.

"To think you dodged that."

His teeth ground involuntarily.

He had already been attacking, so it should not have been easy to predict his strike. Yet in a fleeting moment, the young man sensed the danger, retreated, and twisted his body.

What about himself?

He had barely blocked the young man's fist with his elbow. The hand was so powerful, and even with his internal energy fully charged, his blocking arm could not move freely.

A tremendous difference.

He thought the boy was still young and inexperienced, but he had already matured considerably, hadn't he?

Damn bastard, as expected, what he showed at the Blue Green Sect was not everything. Whether it was when No Gwanyeong had attacked secretly for fun or when they fought in the martial competition.

Cheonyeong had cunningly hidden his true strength all along.

"Damn it."

No Gwanyeong thought he might actually lose. But even if that were true, it changed nothing. Once you start, you must see it through.

"Come on, again! This time I'll burst your heart!"

"By all means! I'll make sure to strike properly this time!"

The two clashed again.

They gave everything, pouring out all they could.

When hidden weapons poured down like darkness, No Gwanyeong's palm force, which he used to stamp the ground and block them, swept through the surroundings.

Swee-aek! Kwa-ang! Kwa-kwa-kwa-ang!

It was like a fierce storm that had arrived on a summer day.

Yet.

"Seems like he's having fun," Yongcheon murmured quietly.

"Yeah," Hwang-sam and Chun-il nodded in agreement, watching the two fight.

It was not a martial competition but a life-and-death battle.

In each move, there was the will to kill each other. It was clear to see that they were trying their best to take each other's lives.

Yet both were smiling.

As if they were conducting all their conversation through their movements.

Saying they had more to say, pouring out more attacks, emphasizing their words with greater force.

But perhaps because of that, it looked sad.

Because when the fight ended, one of them would die.

But Yongcheon, as always, trusted Cheonyeong.

He had overcome even crises as if they were nothing. With a smile.

Kwa-a-a-ang!

"Keuk!"

At the sight of No Gwanyeong retreating with a grimace, Yongcheon clenched his fist. His legs naturally tensed. Even if he trusted, he could not help but worry.

"Huff, huff... Damn it."

No Gwanyeong let his left arm hang limply as he panted.

Both looked exhausted. But while No Gwanyeong was covered in wounds, Cheonyeong's only damage was that his neatly combed hair had become disheveled.

The tight battle had developed a crack.

"Hmph, quite impressive."

"I was fortunate."

"Fortunate? Damn bastard. You deliberately targeted only my injured left arm, and now you're calling that fortune?"

"I accept the criticism. You were strong enough that I had no choice but to target your weakness."

Cheonyeong steadied his breathing and clenched his fist again.

It was sincere.

He had never particularly believed in luck in his life, but now he could not say otherwise.

Was Baekta right?

Somehow, in this new life he had gained, luck seemed to overlap repeatedly. Indeed, wasn't understanding the meaning of "return" and coming back also ultimately a matter of luck?

It was the same now.

He was simply younger and had stronger bones.

In a prolonged fight, if No Gwanyeong's arm had been intact, Cheonyeong would not have found a way to win.

His hidden weapons had not worked against him, and even the countless combat experiences accumulated in his past life had not worked.

So he targeted the injured arm.

Relentlessly.

"Criticism? Why should targeting a weakness be criticized?"

"..."

"All strategy begins with exploiting the opponent's weakness. You were simply slightly better than me."

No Gwanyeong smiled faintly and took his stance again.

But the balance had already been broken.

He could no longer exert the power he once had. What once existed he could no longer use. And because of that, he could no longer use the Ghost Hand.

"Do your best."

"I will!"

No Gwanyeong stomped the ground roughly and approached.

As if he would settle the match with this single move, pouring everything into it.

"Huff..."

Cheonyeong did the same.

He steadied his rough breathing and responded with all his strength to his opponent's best effort.

Kung!

"Ha-ap!"

The approaching steps were faster than ever before, and the feet that kicked dug deep into the earth.

Huu-woong!

As the extended foot carried the force of ten thousand pounds and stretched out, Cheonyeong did not dodge but surrendered his body to the incoming pressure and countered with a palm strike.

However, Cheonyeong's best was aimed at victory.

Even if it meant exploiting the opponent's weakness.

Hwik!

The moment the two hands, filled with tremendous internal energy, were about to collide, Cheonyeong twisted his wrist and dodged.

Tak!

"...!"

No Gwanyeong's eyes widened as his wrist was grabbed by Cheonyeong.

Instinctively, he tried to extend his left arm, but it was useless. It was already an arm he could not use.

As Cheonyeong's hand strike flew toward his throat, No Gwanyeong seemed resigned and contemplated death.

Huu-uk.

But something unexpected happened.

Cheonyeong's hand stopped exactly one inch away from No Gwanyeong's throat.

"You?"

Cheonyeong smiled faintly at No Gwanyeong, whose eyes trembled as he looked at him.

He had intended to kill.

But he did not feel like it.

Did he really need to kill?

The question created hesitation, and the hesitation brought a new thought to Cheonyeong's mind.

"Brother."

"..."

"You said if I win this fight, I should take the Blue Serpent Sect, didn't you?"

"I did."

"Then let's do that."

"Yes."

"So now, you are mine."

"What?"

"Aren't you an elder of the Blue Serpent Sect? Since you belong to the Blue Serpent Sect, naturally you are mine."

"Are you trying to humiliate me, a defeated man!"

No Gwanyeong gritted his teeth and shouted, but Cheonyeong simply laughed brightly.

"Humiliation? I am simply remembering what you said."

"What?"

"When we first met, you said there would be a chance to form a connection, and that I was worth watching."

That was true.

Back then, when the Yin Hand Chamber and the Tang Family were fighting, he had said that.

He had been curious how far the young boy could go.

"When we met at the Blue Green Sect, you wanted to take me as your disciple, didn't you?"

That was also true.

Half in jest.

"Then let's do that."

"..."

"Teach me from the side. And watch. See how far I can stretch. There is no need for a distinction between righteousness and profit to belong somewhere, is there?"

Cheonyeong's smile deepened.

No Gwanyeong simply hardened his face and said nothing.

"The Tang Family still has no elder. Please take that position, No Gwanyeong, the Great Hero."

Cheonyeong spoke seriously, and No Gwanyeong, who had been staring intently for a long time, finally burst into a hollow laugh.

"Are you asking me to bear the stigma of a traitor?"

"What's the problem with that?"

"What?"

"You said before, when I brought down the Yin Hand Chamber, didn't you?"

"..."

"You hoped death would be concluded in one go."

An old memory surfaced.

He had indeed said that.

"Think of it not as betrayal but as salvation. By bearing the stigma, you save everyone belonging to the Blue Serpent Sect."

At Cheonyeong's words, No Gwanyeong pondered for a moment, then sighed.

"Huff, I have simply been defeated. However, I will give your request careful thought."

"Don't worry. I will pester you with requests—not just three times, but hundreds of times. Ah, I will also use bribes. The Tang Family has a rather decent distillery."

Cheonyeong winked and smiled playfully, and No Gwanyeong shook his head.

He sat down on the floor.

The fight was over.

Cheonyeong stepped forward confidently, leaving No Gwanyeong behind, and shouted toward the Dokgak-gwi.

"All have seen and heard! The Tang Family has won this fight!"

At Cheonyeong's shout, the faces of the Dokgak-gwi contorted.

And it was instantaneous.

The hidden weapon that left Cheonyeong's hand burst through Jeok Seohwa's head.

He did not even have time to scream before collapsing to the ground.

"The Tang Family never leaves grudges behind."

At those words, the martial artists instinctively understood.

That the young master lying on a sickbed would soon meet the same fate.

And it was also a warning to them.

"If anyone thinks my actions were wrong, step forward. Whoever you are, however many, I will face you with sincerity."

Though Cheonyeong appeared exhausted, he was emanating an even more formidable presence than before the fight began.

The martial artists' eyes now saw Cheonyeong not as a young family head of a rural sect in Ganyang, but as a giant capable of competing for supremacy in the martial world of Sichuan.

Who would harbor discontent toward such a person?

Already, after surpassing Jeok Seohwa and then No Gwanyeong.

Silence fell, and Cheonyeong's words continued.

"If you harbor no discontent, do not leave. Grasp the Tang Family's hand!"

"...?!"

"I cannot promise you a future. But I do promise this. I will always repay any grudge you bear that is not of your own making."

(End of Chapter)