The body moves as the heart desires, and for one who has survived countless brushes with death, the sword has beco an extension of the body itself.
The state of truly wielding a sword with absolute freedom is called Divine Sword Unity.
However, this is not a realm that can be naturally reached simply by increasing one's martial prowess.
Ultimately, martial prowess depends on how well one has unified their Mind, Energy, and Body and how skillfully they can control them.
To achieve Divine Sword Unity, one must not only unite their energy and spirit but also possess a profound understanding of the sword itself.
The Murim Alliance Leader, who had been watching with skeptical eyes, was stunned. Even Tang Jincheon, who had been wondering how to intervene, widened his eyes in shock.
The only ones in this place who were not surprised were Seo Mun-Hwarin, who already knew, and Tang Sowol and Seol Lihyang, who, despite sensing sothing unusual, had yet to grasp what it was.
Receiving the collective gaze of those around, he slowly raised his sword. And then, a vertical slash followed.
Even though it was swung slowly, the tip of the sword did not waver in the slightest. The clean, singular line that traced through the air showed no hesitation.
Heavenly Mountain Press—a technique from the Three Talents Sword Art that is too simple to even be called swordsmanship. It is nothing more than the most fundantal thod of swinging a sword.
Because of this, there is no room for any refined techniques, nor is there an opportunity to showcase the strength of a trained body.
What it contained was pure enlightennt, nothing more.
In the past, he had been able to imitate sothing similar. But after achieving Divine Sword Unity, the level had completely changed.
No matter how much a movent is ingrained through repetitive training, it can never perfectly align with the ideal image drawn in one's mind.
But now, it was different. The sword moved exactly as he thought.
As long as his heart remained unwavering, the sword would not waver.
As long as his will remained unbroken, the sword would not break—no matter what it faced.
Of course, this was only in theory. Against a greater force, it could still be deflected or even shattered.
However, that would rely be the outco. It did not an there would be any flaw in the process.
Each strike was his absolute best—the most perfect blow he could currently deliver.
For soone like him, who wielded a style that relied on drawing forth whatever was needed in the mont rather than overwhelming an opponent with predetermined forms, Divine Sword Unity was an invaluable enlightennt.
Or perhaps, it was the other way around. After all, it was only after achieving Divine Sword Unity in his past life that he began wielding such an unconventional sword style.
With a faint chuckle, he retrieved his sword.
His body, not yet fully healed, was already beginning to feel the strain from exerting his ntal strength.
Maintaining his stance, he sheathed his sword, took a steady breath, and turned toward the Murim Alliance Leader.
"Would this be sufficient proof?"
"It is. It most certainly is."
The Murim Alliance Leader let out a deep sigh, his voice drained of energy. Shaking his head in disbelief, he muttered,
"I'm nearing sixty now—I've lived long enough, experienced enough, and though I was born a beggar, I managed to rise to the position of the Murim Alliance Leader. I thought I'd seen it all… And yet, here I am, astonished once more."
"I have only grasped the beginning of enlightennt. I have not yet fully reached the Sub-Perfection."
"Bah! Modesty taken too far is just arrogance. Divine Sword Unity, of all things… Haah. No matter how I think about it, this isn't an enlightennt that soone barely past twenty should have achieved."
The Murim Alliance Leader tilted his head repeatedly, as if he still couldn't comprehend it.
And that was only natural.
The most crucial aspect of Divine Sword Unity was how one understood the sword.
Even those who had wielded the blade for a lifeti—those at the very pinnacle of the martial world—often failed to reach this state.
And even among those who had achieved Divine Sword Unity, the way they integrated it into their martial arts differed vastly.
For instance, his approach was to place the sword entirely under his will, manifesting the ideal swordplay he envisioned within his Heartscape.
But in his past life…
Cheon Hwi-da—the Sword Demon—one of the few true masters of the Unorthodox Sect, had a completely different perspective.
Rather than making the sword a part of himself, he sought to beco the sword.
Thus, he wielded swordsmanship not with a blade, but with his hands and feet.
Frankly speaking, whether he was strong or at a level beyond asure was beside the point—what mattered was that, from his own standpoint, it was nothing short of bizarre.
Of course, most of the Unorthodox Sect's masters were eccentric, but the Sword Demon was particularly unsettling.
Perhaps it was because his enlightennt was the complete opposite of my own.
Shaking his head, he cast aside the mories that had surfaced.
anwhile, the Murim Alliance Leader also seed lost in so strange thought, for he, too, began shaking his head.
"Surely, you’re not another old monster who has reversed aging, are you?"
“Huk!”
At those words, Seo Mun-Hwarin’s eyes widened in shock.
Her expression was strangely serious.
Well… technically speaking, I had experienced sothing similar.
The only difference was that it wasn’t just my body that regressed, but everything except for my mories.
"Senior Seo Mun-Hwarin, the Alliance Leader was only joking. Don’t take it too seriously."
"But… but if you, like This One, had reversed your aging… And if you were simply far better at concealing it than This One… Wouldn’t that explain everything?"
“Do you really think the Tang Clan would take in as a son-in-law without verifying sothing like that?"
“Ah.”
Caught off guard, Seo Mun-Hwarin turned to look at Tang Sowol, her mouth slightly open.
Tang Sowol, eting her gaze, hesitated before shaking her head with an awkward expression.
"Um… White-Haired Rakshasa senior, at first, I also thought that Cheon Hwi-da might be an old monster disguising himself after reversing his aging, but—"
"Huweok!”
Seo Mun-Hwarin clutched her chest as if she had suffered a fatal blow.
Perhaps, unconsciously, she had been comparing herself to Tang Sowol and Seol Lihyang.
It was an amusingly innocent scene.
Tang Sowol, having unknowingly stabbed Seo Mun-Hwarin with her words, flashed a bright smile and continued,
"But in the end, it turned out he was just ridiculously talented!"
“…I… I see…”
Seo Mun-Hwarin barely managed to force out a response, slowly gathering herself.
“Kuhum-hum. Ahem. I understand now that you can no longer address This One as you did before. But… could you at least refrain from calling This One by that title?”
“Ah.”
Perhaps because she had heard a bit of Seo Mun-Hwarin’s story before, Tang Sowol recalled that she did not particularly like her epithet. She nodded in understanding.
“Very well. Up until now, I have called you Lady Seo, so… hmm, how about Lady Seo Mun?”
“This One is not so shaless as to insist on such formalities.”
Seo Mun-Hwarin seed a little downcast, but she made an effort not to show it.
Well, considering her age, it had been a long ti since she could be called Lady.
Tang Sowol pondered briefly before clapping her hands together as if she had co up with a good idea.
Clap!
“Ah! Then I’ll just call you Sister Hwarin!”
“S… Sister?”
Seo Mun-Hwarin blinked in confusion. Tang Sowol, still smiling brightly, nodded her head.
“Yes! If using your title is out of the question, then that leaves only your na. We’ve traveled together for so ti now, and judging by your appearance, there’s no way I could call you an elder… Besides, you did oversee Cheon Hwi-da’s martial arts, didn’t you?”
“That… is true.”
Now that she thought about it, Seo Mun-Hwarin had ntioned sparring with him when she explained what had happened after his abduction.
Of course, it was all just an act—an attempt to gain his favor so she could adopt him as her son. But knowing that such an explanation was a convenient distortion of the truth, Seo Mun-Hwarin awkwardly fidgeted with her hair.
For a brief mont, she remained silent—until Tang Sowol, still smiling, lowered her voice and whispered softly.
“And besides… there are quite a few things I’d like to discuss with Sister Hwarin. Mostly about Cheon Hwi-da.”
“Hiccup!”
Seo Mun-Hwarin let out an involuntary hiccup, glancing warily at Tang Sowol. After a mont of hesitation, she nodded cautiously.
For so reason, even Seol Lihyang flinched and started eyeing Tang Sowol nervously.
I had no idea what this was about, but I hoped it would resolve itself smoothly.
As I took a step back to distance myself, the Murim Alliance Leader, who had been watching the exchange with interest, nodded in understanding.
“Hmmm… Hmm… Well, I see how things are. While the reputation of the Murim Alliance has taken a hit, no one was killed or gravely injured. Given the circumstances, if we have received a pledge of assistance from a Flowering Stage master like… ehem, Seo Mun-Hwarin, then there is no need to escalate matters further.”
“Is that… truly the case?!”
“Of course, it is not a final decision. Even though I am the Alliance Leader, I cannot unilaterally decide everything within the Murim Alliance. However, I can suggest that we put an end to this here. And…”
The Murim Alliance Leader paused for a mont.
Then, he straightened his posture, raising his head high.
But in his stance, there was no arrogance—only unwavering righteousness.
Steady and firm.
A presence that could only be exuded by a man who had upheld his principles through the relentless trials of the world.
At this mont, he was not rely the leader of the Murim Alliance—he was Gwak Hu, the Righteous Celestial Blade, a renowned chivalrous warrior of the orthodox sects.
“After this incident, I conducted my own investigation into you. I found that, during the destruction of the Seo Mun Clan, you did not indiscriminately slaughter those who were uninvolved.”
The Black Sky Sword Sect, which I had annihilated, was not famous enough to be called a prestigious sect, but it was a sizable martial school.
They had one Sub-Perfection Stage master, three Peak Stage masters, and nurous first-rate martial artists.
The reason they had been able to produce so many skilled warriors in just a few decades, despite being a sect rebuilt from the ashes of the Seo Mun Clan, was simple.
It was because of Seo Mun-Hwarin’s standards.
Although she had been consud by vengeance in the past, she had still made an effort to avoid crossing the line as a human being.
During her rampage against the Seo Mun Clan’s enemies, she had only slaughtered those directly involved and those who had actively tried to stop her.
In other words, if soone had been a re child or a youth back then, she had let them flee.
Because of that, the Black Sky Sword Sect had been able to flourish. And Seo Mun-Hwarin had no choice but to watch as the grudges she had spared grew stronger and returned to haunt her.
In the end, it had all been settled by my hand.
“Because of this, many fear you for your ruthless thods and the blood you have spilled… but not a single person has denied that your vengeance was justified. That is… except for you.”
The Murim Alliance Leader smirked slightly, lifting the corner of his mouth. His voice was filled with certainty.
“It is infuriating that you concealed your identity and caused a disturbance at the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering, pretending to be a re junior…
But wanting to escape the brand of the unorthodox and live a proper life—no matter how you went about it—I cannot bring myself to say that desire was wrong.”
The man who had spent his entire life chasing righteousness, who had devoted himself to the ideals of chivalry, now looked Seo Mun-Hwarin in the eyes and spoke words of unreserved encouragent.
“So prove it. Prove that your wish is not misguided.”
“This One….”
Seo Mun-Hwarin opened her mouth, as if she had sothing to say, but in the end, she could not bring herself to voice it.
Her lips moved silently.
She was clearly shaken by the unexpected support from the Murim Alliance Leader.
But if it was Seo Mun-Hwarin, she would do well.
And if needed, I could help her.
I still rembered the words she had spoken to before her death—her final wish.
She did not want to be rembered as the flas that had consud a manor, nor as the blood that had stained the white snow.
She wished only to be a single, crimson flower.
And when the winter-blooming callia finally withered, spring would co at last.
Seo Mun-Hwarin would find her spring, too.
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