ALL NOVEL Ch 10
The representative martial arts techniques of Fire Mountain Sect were the *Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Technique* and *Heaven’s Heart Technique*.
However, at some point, they had completely changed.
One day, the *Zihua Divine Skill* (Purple Cloud Divine Skill) suddenly appeared at Fire Mountain.
It was an extremely unorthodox internal martial arts method that could never be associated with the orthodox sects.
Originally, the Plum Blossom Sword was quick, delicate, and graceful.
A sword that used *gentle energy to overcome force* (Softness can overcome hardness.).
But when the Zihua Divine Skill was added, even within that gentle energy, there was an overwhelming force of destruction.
All the swordsmen of Fire Mountain cheered.
It seemed like the *Legendary Plum Blossom* had finally been completed.
Upon its arrival, the Zihua Divine Skill immediately joined the ranks of the Five Greatest Divine Skills of the martial world. With this tremendous internal skill, Fire Mountain was able to gain the reputation of being the greatest in the world at that time.
However, a strange rumor began circulating among the knowledgeable scholars of the martial world.
The rumor that *Zihua Divine Skill is demonic*.
The first *Demon God* in martial arts history.
He was once the founder of the Heavenly Demon Sect, a symbol of absolute evil, and an object of fear and reverence.
The problem was that he was also known as *Zihua Demon God*.
The followers of the Demon Sect praised his demonic skill as *Demon God’s Art* (Demon God Technique), but the righteous sects cursed it with fear, calling it *Zihua Demon Art* (Purple Cloud Demon Technique).
Whenever he appeared on the battlefield, his entire body would burn with violet demonic energy.
The legendary demonic skill of this Demon God was still vividly remembered in the martial world.
And suddenly, Fire Mountain’s internal martial arts skill appeared to bear an uncanny resemblance to that *Zihua Demon Art*.
The Zihua Divine Skill.
Its terrifying unrighteousness, infinite internal power, and violet demonic aura were so strikingly similar.
As these rumors spread in whispers, Fire Mountain boldly went to the orthodox sects to verify the Zihua Divine Skill.
At that time, the greatest elder and respected leader of the martial world, Il Yang Jinja, declared with certainty from the Taiqing Palace of Mount Wudang:
“The Zihua Divine Skill of Fire Mountain is undoubtedly a righteous internal skill!”
After his examination, he confirmed that there was not a trace of demonic energy, or *magic qi* (Demonic energy), in the Zihua Divine Skill.
With that, all controversies were settled, but now Jo Hwi was bringing it up again.
Qing Yunso’s eyes shimmered with violet demonic energy.
“To bring up an issue that was settled a hundred years ago, you must have a great deal of courage,” he said.
Qing Yunso’s expression was filled with a killing intent. No matter how much Fire Mountain represented righteousness, it couldn’t bear to see its honor torn apart.
An ominous silence descended upon the room as the atmosphere froze.
Jo Hwi wore a troubled expression.
*Move aside!*
What do you mean “move aside!”?
It’s my body, isn’t it?
If this elder starts causing a ruckus in front of so many people, how am I supposed to clean up after him?
Je Galyun hurriedly stepped in to mediate.
“Haha! Why is everyone acting like this on such a good day? There will be plenty of chances to test each other’s skills in the future!”
Nevertheless, Qing Yunso did not easily let go of his anger.
But even so, in a place with so many witnesses, it wasn’t possible to just draw swords.
“State your name.”
The one who answered was Nam Gung Jang Ho.
Here is the translation of the text you provided:
—
**Chapter 10 Continued**
“The guest of this family, Jo Hwi, is still young and narrow-minded in his understanding. Please forgive him,” the speaker said.
Jo Hwi let out a deep sigh and bowed his head.
In an instant, he had become the narrow-minded one.
“Yes, yes. All thanks to Elder Sword God,” Jo Hwi thought. “Please stop getting angry.”
“I’ll give you a chance when there are no eyes watching,” he thought again. “Now I’m getting annoyed at this guy.”
Je Galyun turned around and waved his hand dismissively.
“Alright, enough of the formalities. Let’s just unpack our things quickly.”
At his words, the disciples of the five great families dispersed to their rooms one by one.
The sun was now setting, signaling the long night at Fire Mountain.
* * *
Inside the quiet reception hall.
Jo Hwi was quietly inspecting his body.
He was no longer just Jo Hwi, but the sword spirit who had taken control of his physical form.
“It’s becoming useful now,” the sword spirit mused, satisfied with the transformation he had made to Jo Hwi’s body.
Although his cultivation in the *Sword Heaven Great Divine Skill* was still lacking, he wasn’t yet capable of fully utilizing all sword techniques. However, his own skill was one of great willpower, the kind that could move heaven and earth.
At the core of it, the *Ideational Sword* (The sword of intention) was a state that transcended the physical body, belonging to the realm of mental cultivation.
The sword spirit’s empty gaze shifted toward the mountain.
Two violet demonic lights were visible.
One was large, while the other was still relatively small.
Without hesitation, the sword spirit stomped his foot.
*Boom!*
The floor of the reception hall shattered as his figure vanished.
In the air, he appeared to be floating effortlessly, but he slowly began to descend.
It was the legendary *Heavenly Ladder to the Sky* (Skyward Ladder).
Anyone who witnessed it would have surely fallen backward in shock.
The sword spirit gathered his immense killing intent and condensed it into a single point.
In the next moment, a young man in white, moving with a swift kick, exited the training hall.
Qing Yunso, eyes wide with disbelief, stared at the sword spirit.
He was trembling slightly, as if feeling a chill run through him.
“…You?” Qing Yunso asked.
It was the same person from earlier. The one who had spoken of demonic energy in relation to Fire Mountain’s martial arts.
“What kind of killing intent… is this?”
At that moment, the sword spirit’s eyes emitted a deadly glare.
A light, swift movement of his will.
A practice sword that had been placed on the rack in the training hall was suddenly drawn, slicing through the air and landing in the sword spirit’s hand.
“Ge…Ge Gong Seop Mul?” Qing Yunso gasped, his face frozen in disbelief.
The sword traveled through the air in an elegant arc, covering a distance of several feet.
From this distance?
This was something Qing Yunso had never heard of or seen before.
Not even his master could accomplish such a feat.
With astonished eyes, he stared at the sword spirit.
“Prove that your skill is a divine art,” Qing Yunso said, his lips trembling in frustration.
He was overwhelmed by this revelation.
The sword spirit merely revealed his indifferent gaze as his answer.
Yet the crushing sense of defeat began to weigh on Qing Yunso’s body.
He had only heard of such a level in legends.
Despite living his life as a swordsman of Fire Mountain, he had never once witnessed such divine power.
This was truly a being of supreme strength.
However, if his honor were to be trampled and he did nothing, could he still call himself a righteous warrior?
*Clang!*
“If you want to see it so badly, I’ll show you!” Qing Yunso finally exclaimed.
As his eyes turned entirely violet, an overwhelming force began to surge from his body.
The sword spirit sneered.
“Indeed, you’ve hidden a demonic flower within your *life energy*. You can fool the world, but not me.”
The sword spirit saw through the essence of the Zihua Divine Skill in an instant.
It was an amalgamation of the Plum Blossom Divine Skill and the Demon God’s art, a fusion that he could recognize immediately.
“Even if you hide the demonic flower, can you change its nature? Your cultivation is undoubtedly in the realm of the Demon God’s Fourth Realm, *Eternal Fire True Body*.”
At that moment, Qing Yunso felt a chill in his chest.
‘How does he know about the *Eternal Fire True Body*?’ he thought, his mind racing.
Though the term was wrong, how could this person know about the stages of the Zihua Divine Skill?
His cultivation was indeed in the *Eternal Fire* stage of the Zihua Divine Skill’s Fourth Realm.
“You cannot block my sword with your *Eternal Fire True Body*,” the sword spirit said calmly, his sword slowly pointing forward.
*Whoosh!*
At first, small points began to distort the air in front of them.
Then dozens of transparent swords appeared, cutting through the space.
The legendary sword technique, long absent from the martial world, had finally reappeared.
It was the sword art of the *Heavenly Sword Lineage*.
*Heavenly Star Sword*.
In the shimmering display of sword light, Qing Yunso stood frozen like a statue.
The wave of light was not particularly powerful or threatening. It was soft, almost as if embracing the world.
Yet, anyone who felt the immense power within it, such as Qing Yunso, could only feel the crushing force.
Gripping the Plum Blossom Sword tightly, Qing Yunso prepared himself to face it.
The *Plum Blossom Sword Technique* — *Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword* — was his answer to the oncoming attack.
Thousand Fragrances, Dense Fragrances
Swishhhh!
In an instant, the air was filled with red plum blossom petals.
Each petal was a sword-flame crafted by the sword, each one glowing with the essence of a sword.
It was hard to believe that a disciple who had just barely reached adulthood could possess such power. He had already surpassed the limitations of a typical disciple and reached the level of a genius among geniuses.
However, even the sword-flames he conjured could not reach the streaks of the comet-like swordsmanship.
The plum blossom petals, one by one, faded as if melting in the snow.
The swords of the Sword Spirit simply traced soft arcs in the air, moving unhindered by anything.
‘…What is this!’
He had thought that these attacks, though slow, could easily be avoided, so he tried to use his sword skills to move.
Yet, every movement he made was met with a strike.
Without even the sound of a sword cutting through the air.
Qing Yunso, his body torn apart, struggled to hold himself together and forced his sword into the ground.
“…Ugh!”
The Sword Spirit merely stared at him with indifferent eyes.
“I’ve extinguished both flames of yours. What now? Do you wish to bring out the true demon within you?” the Sword Spirit said, his tone calm.
Qing Yunso, blood dripping from his lips, gripped his sword once again and shouted with desperation.
“The sword of Fire Mountain is never a demonic sword!”
“Is that so?” the Sword Spirit responded.
Once again, he raised his sword slowly and pointed it at Qing Yunso.
In that moment, Qing Yunso found himself unable to control his body. This was a phenomenon that only those who understood will power could recognize.
The strange binding that held him stunned Qing Yunso completely.
“What, what is this! My body—!”
At that moment, the Sword Spirit’s sword flicked lightly.
Thuk! Thuk!
“Arrghh!!”
Qing Yunso screamed in agony.
He couldn’t recognize it, but it was the highest level of swordsmanship, the Formless Sword Qi (無形劒氣).
“Can you really hide the reversal of heaven with life energy? Look at this. This is the true form of the demonic energy that you call the Demon God’s Art,” the Sword Spirit said.
Thuk! Thuk!
The Formless Sword Qi struck at Qing Yunso’s vital points once more.
“Ugh! Aaaaghhh!”
All demonic techniques are based on the reversal of blood and energy, the reversal of the blood flow. While Qing Yunso had been hiding this with his life energy, the Sword Spirit, a master of swordsmanship, had seen through it without a doubt.
“Show me!” the Sword Spirit commanded.
At that moment, Qing Yunso’s energy surged.
“Shut up! Shut up, you bastard!” he screamed.
The violet demon energy in his eyes spread across his entire body.
For the first time in six hundred years, the true form of the Purple Mist Demon Art was revealed.
Whooshhh!
As Qing Yunso became fully consumed by his demonic energy, he transformed into a completely different person.
His eyes, glowing with malicious violet energy, seemed ready to tear the world apart.
Destructive killing intent poured from his body like a suffocating pressure.
Only then did the Sword Spirit smile wryly.
“…True demon,” he murmured.
The Sword Spirit’s gaze softened with a touch of nostalgia as memories stirred. His eyes, tinged with sadness, turned toward the serene landscape of Fire Mountain.
“How is it that those who dream of inaction are so caught up in such worthless desires?” he sighed, his expression full of melancholy.
Slowly, he lifted his sword and made a slashing motion through the air.
In an instant, a violent surge of demonic energy rushed toward him, but Qing Yunso collapsed before he could reach the Sword Spirit.
With a flick of his foot, the Sword Spirit planted his sword into the ground and lifted Qing Yunso’s body.
His face was dark with fury as he stared in the direction of a distant building on the mountain.
It was the Plum Blossom Shrine, located at the summit of Fire Mountain’s highest peak, the Nak-Ahn Peak.
The Sword Spirit stomped his foot.
Boom!
A huge crater opened, and in an instant, both the Sword Spirit and Qing Yunso disappeared from sight.
All of this had happened in less than half the time it takes for a breath.
***
At Fire Mountain, the 28th Head of the Sect, Dan Cheon-Yang, watched in silence.
His right hand, which had been painting a landscape, suddenly froze.
‘…What is this?’
The face of Dan Cheon-Yang, who was looking out the window, was colored with a shudder.
It felt as if a huge mountain range had been moved entirely, a weighty sensation pressing down on him.
He felt trapped in an illusion, as if a sword weighing hundreds of thousands, even millions, of pounds was bearing down on him.
The Purple Mist Sword Saint.
The head of the Seven Masters.
The number one swordsman of his time.
Had there ever been a time when he had been so disturbed?
Could this truly be the presence of a mere human?
How could a person possess such power while in the form of a mortal body?
It was a pressure so immense, it felt like a calamity.
Come out.
A voice echoed with the power of the Six Harmonies.
Dan Cheon-Yang slowly stood up from his seat.
As he struggled to calm his disturbed mind, he took a step forward. In that moment, something strange occurred.
‘My energy…?’
The qi of the Purple Mist Divine Art, which had once filled his Kihae point, was now completely gone.
‘Mind and form injuries?’
This legendary level of skill, where one’s intent alone could harm others, was something he had only heard of in legends. He never expected to experience it so personally.
‘A celestial being.’
Such immense control over one’s intent could not possibly be the work of an ordinary martial art. Dan Cheon-Yang gathered his body and mind, bracing himself, and moved forward.
Eventually, he found the Sword Spirit and bowed deeply.
“I seek an audience with the Celestial Being.”
Before him stood a young man, no more than a youth in his prime.
But to those who could see beyond appearances, the form of a celestial being was nothing more than a temporary vessel.
To Dan Cheon-Yang, who recognized the true nature of the person before him, this form was meaningless.
A true sage is not simply someone who has attained immortality, but one who has reached the realm of the True Being through relentless cultivation. This state, sought by all who practice the Way, is the ultimate dream and culmination of their life’s work.
For Dan Cheon-Yang, he had never even heard the call of the crane, the sound that signifies the step right before ascension to immortality.
Thus, showing respect was perhaps only natural.
Thud.
Suddenly, a bloodied young man appeared within his sight.
As Dan Cheon-Yang observed the youth’s face, he gasped in horror and collapsed to his knees.
“Yunso! You fool!”
The bloodied youth was none other than his own disciple, Qing Yunso, from Fire Mountain.
“What is this? How could a Celestial Being commit such a wicked act?”
A cold voice rang out from the Sword Spirit.
“The one who has inserted a demon into his disciple’s body now dares to speak of evil karma to me?”
Dan Cheon-Yang froze, his body as still as a statue.
“Even those who cultivate the Way are human. They may be momentarily blinded by base desires… But still…”
In the distance, a sword slowly flew toward him.
It was the training iron sword that had been left in the practice hall.
The Sword Spirit caught the iron sword in his hand.
“If you truly follow the Way, you should have ended these desires and distractions in a single generation.”
The sword, now in the Sword Spirit’s hand, radiated an overwhelming pressure.
“You dare to ruin the future as well?”
“…Ugh!”
In that instant, Dan Cheon-Yang vomited a mouthful of blood.
His face, stained with shock, was filled with disbelief.
This man, who had already exuded a presence like a mountain, became even more terrifying.
The pressure of the mountain-like aura concentrated in the sword and became focused in a single point.
Facing this destructive force, his heart and veins shattered. Even a Celestial Being couldn’t endure such an overwhelming force, could they?
He was supposed to be the number one in the world.
Yet now, his very heart and veins were breaking just from the energy contained in the sword!
Mind and form injuries?
Could this truly be called mind and form injuries?
It felt like the power of a god.
A being like that should not exist in the human world.
Dan Cheon-Yang gritted his teeth in frustration.
“This is the human world! Why should the Celestial Sovereign of the Immortal Realm involve himself in human affairs?”
The Celestial Sovereign of the Immortal Realm.
A term that referred to the highest echelon of the Immortal Realm.
The Sword Spirit, seeming to agree, nodded his head.
He was already a being beyond life, having transcended humanity through his connection to the Blood Prison’s fate. Having gained extraordinary abilities, his soul, too, was bound to the Blood Prison.
However, if Heaven truly existed…
Then, there must have been a reason that this person, whom he knew as Jo Hwi, was linked to him and had come into this world.
The Sword Spirit did not doubt that the reason for today’s events was deeply connected to that fact.
“Though, as you think, I am not an immortal. However, as someone bound by the Blood Prison’s fate, it’s not necessarily a good thing to interfere in human affairs. But, I have earned that right. After all, as long as I inhabit this body, I, too, am ‘human.’”
Suddenly, the Sword Spirit revealed all of his power.
Whooooooosh.
The Seven Colored Divine Qi surged forth.
It wasn’t mere power or momentum.
His sword had transformed into the vast and boundless Great Nature.
“As a martial artist, I ask you once more—are you truly willing to give up your craving for demons?”
A shiver ran down his spine.
This being was a martial artist?
Dan Cheon-Yang looked at him with doubt in his eyes.
“Who exactly are you?”
At that moment, an illusion appeared before Dan Cheon-Yang’s eyes.
The strike he had seen was not a sword strike filled with tremendous energy, nor a legendary technique like the Heart Sword or Using Qi to Command the Sword.
It was simply a dignified step forward that turned into the Great Nature, sweeping over the volcano.
Destruction.
The entire Hwa Mountain sect, which had once boasted a scale of two thousand jang (a traditional unit of length), simply vanished.
It wasn’t crushed or destroyed; it had simply evaporated.
“Hah, hah…”
Dan Cheon-Yang suddenly woke from the illusion, gasping for air.
With a half-closed eye, the Sword Spirit continued in his usual calm voice.
“If you dare to claim yourself as the successor of the Hwa Mountain Sword Sect, surely you cannot fail to recognize the sword intent in this one strike?”
Sky Sword Style.
The Heavenly Empty Void Sword.
Only one swordsman in martial history has ever demonstrated such a divine sword style.
One of the most powerful beings among gods.
A legend among all swordsmen who practiced the Way.
“…The Sword Spirit?”
A level beyond the absolute martial arts.
Only three individuals in martial history have reached the ultimate state of the Natural Realm.
Among them, only the Sword Spirit wielded a sword.
“I warn you, anyone who embraces demons can never reach the true pinnacle of the Hwa Mountain Sword Sect… The Dark Fragrance Plum Blossom can only be attained by those who embrace vitality.”
At the Sword Spirit’s words, Dan Cheon-Yang felt as though lightning had struck his body.
The one strike shown in the illusion.
The essence of that realization immediately enveloped Dan Cheon-Yang.
Where the Purple Mist Divine Art had once resided, in his empty Dantian, the energy of life slowly settled in.
Finally, the vital essence of all life from Hwa Mountain gathered around him.
This was a force of life that could not be explained by the absolute amount of Qi or inner power.
Dan Cheon-Yang had fully realized the true Plum Blossom Vitality (Maehwa Saenggong).
As the energy of the Plum Blossom Vitality slowly healed his shattered heart and veins, his complexion returned to normal.
A soft moonlight illuminated the Sword Spirit’s satisfied smile.
“Finally, the Dark Fragrance Plum Blossom has bloomed.”
The faint dark fragrance spread through the air, emanating from the spot where Dan Cheon-Yang was standing.
The long-lost legend of Hwa Mountain, the Dark Fragrance Plum Blossom, had finally returned to the mountain after three hundred years.
‘This… this is…’
Dan Cheon-Yang wiped a tear from his eye as he gazed at the world.
Everything had changed.
He was now connected to all the vital energy of the heavens and earth.
He trembled with the ecstasy of this realization as he suddenly turned to face the Sword Spirit.
His gaze had transformed, now resembling that of the Sword Spirit.
“Is this… Could I…?”
The Sword Spirit, still smiling contentedly, nodded in affirmation.
“Congratulations on your great achievement.”
Dan Cheon-Yang had entered the realm beyond the absolute martial arts—into the Natural Realm, the first step toward enlightenment.
‘Ancestors…’
His sorrow erupted.
Even though he had achieved fame as the number one in the world, his heart had always felt empty.
Had he struggled so long just to reach this one moment of realization?
He thought of the many predecessors of Hwa Mountain who had perished, unable to attain the Dark Fragrance Plum Blossom, lost in the Purple Mist and dying without ever achieving their goal.
He now realized that he could not blame them for seeking the Purple Mist.
The true essence of Hwa Mountain, the Plum Blossom Vitality, was a desire shared by all of Hwa Mountain.
But even knowing it was a wrong path, they had all turned a blind eye to the power it promised.
Had this continued, the Dark Fragrance Plum Blossom would have never been born. Eventually, the demonic fire of the Purple Mist would have turned Hwa Mountain into a cursed, blood-soaked realm.
Suddenly, Dan Cheon-Yang lifted his head to look at the Sword Spirit.
Now, he truly saw the nature of his opponent.
He had already transcended filling himself with anything—he had emptied everything.
It was truly an incomprehensible level.
“Are you truly… the Sword Spirit?”
A long silence.
But silence is sometimes an affirmation.
How could the warrior of three hundred years ago appear before him now? Why had he shown such favor to Hwa Mountain? Nothing made sense.
Yet, Dan Cheon-Yang didn’t doubt it. He had personally experienced everything and internalized it.
Soon, he lowered his body to the ground, offering the deepest of bows.
“…Thank you for your guidance. And thank you for saving Hwa Mountain…”
By the time he raised his head, the Sword Spirit’s presence was no longer there—only an empty void remained.
Dan Cheon-Yang, still gazing blankly at the void, turned his gaze toward his disciple.
Without wiping the tears that had begun to well up, he gently stroked his disciple’s face.
“I’m sorry. I am so sorry.”
And so, the Purple Mist Divine Art of Hwa Mountain disappeared into history.
In the dimly lit guest hall, Jo Hwi, with a blank expression, examined his body, which the Sword Spirit had worn.
To an outsider, it seemed like a weak mortal body.
It was still hard to believe that such a divine being had displayed that kind of power while inhabiting such a human form.
A god.
The power contained in that single word of his title.
It wasn’t without reason that there were only three beings like him in all of martial history.
He was truly a Sword God.
With a single strike, he had obliterated Hwa Mountain.
It was merely an illusion he had shown to his opponent, but it was something that could actually happen.
Every move, every thought the Sword Spirit demonstrated, every boundless sense of the universe, and every element of that transcendent realm remained vividly etched in Jo Hwi’s mind.
The sword techniques of Nam Gung-Jang-Ho were certainly impressive.
The force contained within Peng Gak’s Dao would be formidable.
The spear skills of Jang Il-Long were unmatched for any warrior.
These were all part of martial arts and the rivers and lakes.
But could what the Sword Spirit showed truly be considered part of martial arts?
The great Nam Gung-Jang-Ho had been made to fear the Qing Yunso with a single thought and had crushed him.
Was the ability to make the number one swordsman of Hwa Mountain surrender to an illusion of intent really martial arts?
If a single sword could erase an entire sect from the world, can that sword truly belong to the martial world?
Who could challenge such a Sword God?
Could sects, forces, or even armies and emperors still have any meaning before him?
Confronting the reality of the god he had only imagined left Jo Hwi with a deep sense of dread.
Now, he knew he had to persuade the Sword Spirit.
The day he returned to the world must never come.
If there was a demon named Purple Mist in Hwa Mountain…
This was Jo Hwi’s own demon.
***
The first day of the Small Dragon Grand Tournament had arrived.
As the leader of the Huashan Sect and universally recognized top martial artist, Dan Cheonyang, raised the Plum Blossom Sword high to declare the opening, the cheers of the martial artists filled the air, echoing through the entire Huashan Mountain.
-Wooooooo!
Youth.
The beginning of the grand festival that was granted only to these beautiful youths.
How long had they waited for this moment, filled with anticipation?
The energy and resolve of all the youths who had spent endless years training gathered at Huashan.
Amidst the tremendous cheers, Nangong Jangho’s blood began to boil.
“This time, for sure…!”
His fist clenched tightly.
Thinking back to the humiliation three years ago still made his teeth gnash.
Suddenly, he looked around.
He could spot other martial artists from Huashan, but there was one person missing: the Huashan Small Dragon, Cheongunso.
“Nangong-hyung? Did you sleep well?”
A loud voice came from Zhang Yilong, who walked toward him with exuberant steps.
Nangong Jangho’s body trembled in anger.
“I told you clearly, didn’t I?”
How could he call him ‘hyung’ with that face?!
And it didn’t even sound respectful!
Nangong Jangho turned away with an annoyed expression.
His gaze landed on Jeong Gyeolun and Cho Hui, who were chatting as they walked over.
His face twisted even more.
He didn’t like how Cho Hui was becoming closer with Jeong Gyeolun.
“I’d like to know more about the Everfrost Essence.”
Cho Hui was asking Jeong Gyeolun, but before he could finish, Nangong Jangho interrupted.
“I’ll explain it!”
Suddenly cutting in, Jeong Gyeolun pouted.
“Just stick to your usual thing and stay out of it.”
Nangong Jangho didn’t care.
“The Everfrost Essence is a treasure of the Northern Sea. For those who practice cold-based energy techniques like Ice Power, it’s truly a blessing. It’s also beneficial for women suffering from blocked meridians, making it a priceless martial treasure of the world.”
“What does it look like?”
“I haven’t seen it myself, but I’ve heard it looks like an Ice Orb. It’s an object that allows a person to lie down and practice cold energy techniques.”
Cho Hui’s eyes gleamed.
“Does it maintain coldness indefinitely?”
Jeong Gyeolun showed off his knowledge.
“It was revealed during the Great War of the Seas, but according to legends, the Everfrost Essence has been around for more than a thousand years.”
“…A thousand years?”
Cho Hui’s face froze in shock.
It truly lived up to its name as ‘Everfrost’ Essence!
“What category does it belong to?”
Cho Hui’s face was gleaming with greed.
The idea that filled his mind ever since he heard the name “Everfrost Essence” was now consuming him!
That natural refrigerator—he absolutely couldn’t let it slip away!
The infamous water of the Central Plains.
The reason tea had developed in the Central Plains was because the water was so undrinkable that it had to be boiled before it could be consumed.
Since coming to this world, Cho Hui had never drunk cold water.
Wherever he went, it was always warm tea. To someone used to cold iced coffee, this place was truly hell.
“Well, the product categories are decided by the hosts… I can’t really guess their intentions.”
At Jeong Gyeolun’s answer, Nangong Jangho snorted.
“You’re only limited by thinking too much. Do you think you can beat someone who actually acts instead of just thinking?”
Nangong Jangho had already walked over and was now standing in front of the Huashan martial artists.
With a polite bow, he asked:
“I am Nangong Jangho. I’d like to know what the prizes for the categories in this Small Dragon Grand Tournament are.”
Huashan disciple, Cheongunhak, smiled warmly and greeted him.
“I’ve heard of the great reputation of the Small Sword Master. It’s an honor.”
Then Cheongunhak turned to gaze at the martial stage before speaking again.
“First, the prize for the martial tournament is the ‘Mystic Kungfu Manual.’”
The secret manual of Mu Gyeonggong, one of the Ten Great Masters of the world, was an appropriate prize for the martial tournament. It was an expected outcome.
“I’ve heard that the Sun God Sword will be awarded to the sect that wins the martial performance exhibition.”
Cho Hui felt a sense of relief.
With his only strong point being his martial prowess, winning the martial tournament was impossible for him.
The martial performance exhibition, too, would be a collaboration of a sect’s representative martial arts performed as a sword dance. Even if Nangong’s sect won, Cho Hui couldn’t claim ownership of it.
Therefore, it was fortunate that the prizes for both the martial tournament and the martial performance exhibition were the Mystic Kungfu Manual and the Sun God Sword.
To Cho Hui, who would soon be leading the Sword Sect, the Mystic Kungfu Manual wasn’t very valuable. The Sun God Sword, as it was just a fire-based sword, didn’t seem special either.
Suddenly, Cho Hui asked quickly:
“What about the Everfrost Essence?”
Huashan disciple Cheongunhak looked at Cho Hui with a steady gaze.
“It’s the prize for the winner of the Literary Debate.”
“Literary Debate? What’s that?”
Jeong Gyeolun smiled enigmatically.
“It’s a competition about philosophies, calligraphy, or even appraising works of art. Without a deep understanding of scholarly perspectives, you wouldn’t even have a chance to win. I guess it’s the weakest category for martial artists.”
The Literary Debate (The Theory of Literature and Art) was a field that the Zhegal family had always dominated.
Occasionally, talented scholars from the Shangguan family or the Muyong Manor would emerge, but they were never able to rival the Zhegal family.
Three years ago, it was thanks to the Literary Debate that Jegeolun made a name for himself as the “Little Zhegal.”
Jegeolun smiled meaningfully but then froze, his face stiffening.
He had spotted Cho Hui’s face, gleaming with delight, madness, longing, and greed—sufficient to send a chill down anyone’s spine!
Cho Hui, with his hawk-like sharp eyes, was staring intently at Jegeolun.
“How does one participate in the Literary Debate? When does it start?”
“The Literary Debate, like the martial tournament, isn’t bound by any formal rules. As long as a debate among learned individuals begins, that’s when the Literary Debate starts.”
“Oh… I see. By the way, who was the winner last year?”
Jegeolun nodded.
“Yes, it was me.”
Cho Hui’s brain was racing.
He couldn’t use calligraphy or painting because he had never practiced those skills.
Of course, he could write Chinese characters, but if someone like Han Seok-bong, a master calligrapher, appeared, he would undoubtedly lose.
To utilize the vast knowledge of Man Sangjo, Cho Hui decided that he would have to push through with an academic argument based on “philosophy” or similar fields.
“It seems it’s already started.”
Jegeolun looked in the direction of the voice.
A young man, dressed in elegant scholarly robes, was loudly calling out to the assembly.
“Who dares to challenge me in a debate on academic thought? Step forward!”
It was none other than Muyong Min from the Muyong Manor, who had been the runner-up three years ago, narrowly losing to Jegeolun.
Whoosh!
Jegeolun unfurled his golden phoenix robe, smiling faintly.
“Well… Let’s go see if he has made any progress since then.”
As Muyong Min confidently stepped forward, a group of scholars dressed in the garb of learned men surrounded him.
“I accept your challenge!”
Unexpectedly, the person who stepped forward to challenge Muyong Min was a young girl.
“Soso?”
Cho Hui looked at Nangong Soso with surprise.
The one challenging Muyong Min was none other than Nangong Soso.
“I’ll concede the first topic to the challenger!”
Nangong Soso responded decisively, as if she had already prepared for this moment.
“I will discuss Han Feizi’s Five Pests!”
A murmur spread through the crowd.
The topic she suggested was Han Feizi.
Han Feizi was the teacher of Emperor Qin Shi Huang, the first emperor to unify the Central Plains.
It was a famous story that after reading Han Feizi’s writings, Emperor Qin declared, “If I could discuss great undertakings with this person, I would die with no regrets.”
The problem lay in Han Feizi’s identification of the “Five Pests” (
Five pests)—the five parasites destroying the nation, one of which was Confucianism.
Han Feizi argued that Confucianism was a harmful ideology because it focused too much on useless formalities like appearance and clothing, as well as the values of the “gentleman” such as benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom. In his view, these things weakened a nation’s strength.
This philosophy led to the infamous “Burning of the Books and Burying of Scholars” (焚书坑儒), one of the darkest episodes in history for Confucian scholars.
Han Feizi’s philosophy had been so powerful that it became a driving force behind one of the most terrifying events for Confucianism, turning the Qin Dynasty into a near hell for Confucian scholars.
The scholars who perished and the thousands of Confucian books burned were deeply ingrained in their memory.
For generations, Confucianism had always been opposed by the Legalist school of thought (法家).
Now, as the academic world of the Central Plains had once again been united under Confucianism, Nangong Soso boldly brought up the Five Pests of Han Feizi, which was at the heart of Legalism.
She had practically provoked the very core of Confucian scholars’ sensibilities.
“Do you dare to bring up that decaying Legalist ideology again?”
Muyong Min glared at Nangong Soso with a mixture of hatred. The other scholars around them had similar expressions.
Nangong Soso smiled widely.
“What could be better than using the Five Pests to criticize Confucianism?”
“What did you say?”
Nangong Soso’s tone was unapologetic.
“Is there anyone here who doesn’t know the history of Confucianism, which became obsessed with idealism and caused countless disasters?”
Jegeolun frowned.
The typical trait of those first encountering Han Feizi’s philosophy was evident in Nangong Soso as well.
Especially since the pursuit of the Way of the Emperor (The Way of Kings) was the core of the Nangong family’s tradition.
The foundation of Imperial Studies (The study of kings) that developed from the Qin Dynasty to the Han Dynasty was based on Han Feizi’s writings, including his theory of the Five Pests.
Jegeolun also gave a disapproving look and criticized her.
“The reason why the Qin Dynasty, which established Legalism as its national ideology, fell after just over twenty years is obvious. This debate will be your defeat, so I suggest changing the topic.”
Although most of the scholars were firmly defending Confucianism, Cho Hui was actually supporting Nangong Soso.
He could still hear the calm voice of the elder Man Sangjo in his mind.
Man Sangjo, too, as a Confucian scholar, had criticized Legalism, but Cho Hui felt an instinctive resistance to it.
If he knew the history of Joseon, he could never defend Confucianism.
The Joseon scholar class, or “Sarim” (士林), was split into two factions, the Westerners (西人) and the Easterners (東人), which created a harmful system of political factions, or “Bungdang,” that plagued the entire Joseon Dynasty. No king in Joseon could restrain or prevent the evils of these factions.
Rather, they used the factions to maintain their power or suppress opposing sides, ultimately becoming puppets of their ministers, manipulated and used.
By the end of Joseon’s declining days, the country had descended into a tragic state that could only be described as unbearable to witness.
While the kings and ministers of Joseon were embroiled in political struggles, the Japanese Empire was expanding and threatening the entire East, eventually leading to Joseon’s ministers selling the country to Japan.
The Queen of Joseon was brutally assassinated by assassins, and through the Eulsa Treaty, Joseon abandoned its sovereignty, including foreign relations and national defense, eventually ending the dynasty with the incompetent reign of Emperor Sunjong.
Confucianism had long been used as a shield to protect the privileges of scholars, never truly serving to implement the humanist ideals they claimed to uphold.
Confucian ideals of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom?
Is it “benevolent” or “righteous” to make people slaves?
The system of slavery, which was the most brutal hereditary institution in human history, was academically justified by Confucian scholars.
“Foolish scholars.”
This derisive term was used to describe those obsessed with formalities and etiquette, believing only in their own worldview as correct.
Young people in Korea didn’t mock them for no reason.
Having studied the history of Joseon, they instinctively felt the harm caused by it.
On the other hand, Legalism was a philosophy that was more familiar to Cho Hui, who had lived in a law-based country like South Korea.
After reflecting on the voice of the elder Man Sangjo, Cho Hui finally spoke to the assembly.
“The reason Legalism collapsed was because the law was used solely as a tool to control the people. If the law had been fair, the Qin Dynasty would never have fallen.”
Jegeolun, now curious, turned his gaze toward Cho Hui.
“What are you saying? The great principle of Legalism is that the law applies equally to all people, regardless of their status. What’s your point?”
Cho Hui chuckled softly.
“Who doesn’t know that? The problem is that it wasn’t upheld. The Qin Dynasty strictly prohibited adultery. A man who had relations with a married woman was to be executed. But how many married women did the First Emperor take for himself?”
The First Emperor of Qin, who destroyed states such as Yan, Zhao, Wei, and Qi, took many of the queens and noblewomen of these nations as spoils. He selected the most beautiful among them to become his concubines.
If proper law had been applied, these women should have been respected as prisoners or freed.
Even the cruel Nazi dictator Hitler didn’t rape the Queen of Poland.
What if the President of South Korea invaded another country and forcibly took their First Lady or Queen as his wife?
He would probably be vilified for life or tried in an international court.
This is the difference between the ancient Chinese Legalism and modern legal systems.
“The Son of Heaven, who rules the empire and follows the Way of the Emperor, cannot be treated the same as the common people.”
At this response from Muyong Min, Cho Hui scowled.
“Here we go again, foolish scholars everywhere.”
“‘Foolish scholars’?!”
A word that was completely unfamiliar, one that he couldn’t understand.
However, there was something strangely vulgar about its tone, and Muyongmin furrowed his brow.
“What does that mean?”
Cho Hui also felt offended by Muyongmin’s primitive (?) ideas.
“What is this ‘human-centered’ philosophy of Confucianism? It’s the idea that between Heaven and Earth, the Way of Man is the true Way. The ruler of Heaven is also a human, and the center of the universe is only human. Isn’t it all about putting human values at the center? But then, the Way of the Emperor and the Way of the People are different? Are one human and the other beasts?”
From Cho Hui’s perspective, Muyongmin’s argument was no different from saying that one’s existence was like that of a slave or an animal.
Suddenly, Jegeolun interjected.
“Confucius said that the state is like a family, and the Son of Heaven, who offers sacrifices to Heaven for the people’s well-being, is the father and guide to all under Heaven. The people are the children of such a father…”
Cho Hui cut off Jegeolun’s words abruptly.
“This is why Confucianism is criticized. They distort or manipulate the ideas and values they created for the convenience of governance. It’s a petty way of parasitizing power. It’s like a bribe to the Emperor. Legalism at least remains innocent by comparison.”
Confucianism petty?
Wasn’t this something Confucius himself said?
“Frankly, the idea of the Son of Heaven is just a way to justify the special, absolute nature of the Emperor. Now, I ask again—can the idea of the Son of Heaven and human-centered philosophy coexist? Can we call them the same Confucian philosophy?”
“….”
“In order for human-centered philosophy to work, you cannot divide the Emperor from the people. Or else, you would have to prove that the Emperor and the people are different kinds of beings.”
For scholars in the Central Plains, the teachings of Confucius and Mencius were like the Bible to Christians.
Naturally, they had never doubted what Confucius said.
They had never even considered that Confucianism’s basic human-centered values could be criticized within the framework of the “Way of the Emperor.”
“I’ll repeat myself. The reason the Qin Empire’s legalism failed was that the laws were applied differently based on social class. And this was the result of the laws being maintained by excessively harsh punishments.”
Muyongmin added his doubts.
“Is there any other way to preserve the imperial laws other than through punishment?”
Cho Hui nodded vigorously, as if it was obvious.
“Punishments are fine, but the severity is the problem. How can you execute someone for adultery? Or brand someone’s face with a hot iron until they confess? Or cut out someone’s tongue for lying? Can such laws really be applied equally? In the end, only the powerless are subjected to the law.”
If we were to translate Cho Hui’s thoughts to the modern era…
If you were punished by having your ankle cut off for speeding, or your tongue branded for spitting, who would obey such laws?
No one would follow them.
That’s why modern legal systems grapple with ensuring the effectiveness of laws.
“So, the law should be divided into minor and major crimes, with punishments based on fines or detention for lesser crimes, and physical punishment for more serious offenses. Laws must have practical effectiveness, meaning they must be enforceable, or they are meaningless.”
All the scholars’ faces were frozen in disbelief.
A completely new concept of Legalism.
What Cho Hui was describing had never been seen in the academic circles of the Central Plains.
Jegeolun’s face was filled with curiosity.
“What about the criteria for distinguishing the severity of crimes?”
Cho Hui answered without hesitation.
“That’s up to the state to decide. If you ask for my opinion, I would divide crimes into major ones, such as taking someone’s life, and minor ones, which do not involve harm to life.”
Jegeolun seemed mildly surprised.
Although what Cho Hui was talking about was Legalism, the core philosophy behind it was clearly human-centered.
“For minor crimes, we should distinguish between tangible damage to someone’s property, which would be punished with fines or detention, and intangible damage, such as harm to someone’s reputation or dignity, which would involve….”
Cho Hui’s argument continued slowly.
It seemed that Cho Hui was applying his public service exam experience here, but he was speaking in a way that would help the scholars understand without being overwhelmed by cultural shock.
The problem was that, as he spoke, he found himself inadvertently diving into ideas of modern democracy.
He began to feel that something was off as he noticed that all the scholars around him had frozen with shock.
“…That’s enough for now.”
With a somewhat awkward expression, Cho Hui took a step back.
No one spoke.
This was because Cho Hui’s philosophy and ideas were too radical and dangerous.
However, deep inside, an unusual spark was igniting in their hearts.
It was a unique perspective that couldn’t be interpreted by any academic trend in the Central Plains.
It almost felt like he was from a completely different era.
“All the people of the world are the subjects of the state…”
Until now, every ruler had claimed that the people were the true masters of the country, that all the people of the world were the foundation.
But these were only excuses to justify their rule.
No thinker had ever discussed the Way of the people with such a systematic legal framework until now.
The first to break the silence was Jegeolun.
“Regardless of the rest, I cannot easily understand the concept of granting the right to vote. Giving all the people the power to choose a king and control the nation is far too dangerous.”
Cho Hui stared at Jegeolun.
“Why is that?”
“Most of the people, unable to even read or write, are ignorant. How can we entrust them with such serious matters of state when they don’t have any political thoughts or philosophy?”
Ah, here it comes—the concept of the “superior people.”
Cho Hui replied with irritation.
“As a scholar, or as someone with knowledge, I can understand your pride. But to think of all the people as foolish is arrogance. Just because someone cannot express their thoughts or philosophy through words or writing doesn’t mean they lose their wisdom.”
“Hmm…”
“Even the uneducated in the countryside know the virtue of filial piety (Filial piety) towards their parents, love for their family, the spirit of chivalry (Hero) in fighting against robbers, and benevolence (Benevolence) in sharing food with neighbors. Can we truly call these uneducated people ignorant just because they don’t know the teachings of Confucius and Mencius? To see the people as foolish and in need of enlightenment is the most dangerous poison a scholar can harbor.”
Wow.
Even Cho Hui felt how impressive his words sounded.
His face was full of pride, a sense of modern superiority to the extreme.
On the other hand, Jegeolun, who had asked the question, looked completely stunned, as if hit by a bomb.
While Cho Hui was delivering his impassioned speech, a few scholars had already eagerly asked questions.
However, they never expected even the great Jegeolun to be completely defeated.
After hearing Cho Hui’s speech once again, the scholars felt as though they were completely exposed and vulnerable.
There was no counterargument that could challenge the solid justification and logic behind Cho Hui’s ideas.
The unshakable fortress, the name of democracy, made them feel utterly small.
The first to break the silence this time was Muyongmin.
“I will compete with you in calligraphy! You, and I, will duel in brushwork!”
With the expression of “A scholar should duel with the brush!” he pulled out his inkstone and brush.
‘Oh no!’
Cho Hui immediately froze in horror.
Was he really going to end up like this, sending my cold dreams to the abyss?
The coldness of my modern friends was slipping away!
-Get out of the way!
“I’ll, I’ll step aside!”
Of course, he stepped aside! How could he just watch the descendants of the Cho family suffer?
Finally, the spirit of the mighty Man Sangcho entered Cho Hui’s body.
“Alright, what do you want to write?”
Cho Hui’s tone had changed arrogantly.
As Muyongmin gritted his teeth and was about to say something, another voice interrupted.
“I too will join the competition. Let’s use a classic poem, ‘Wen Wang Zhi Shi’ from the *Book of Songs* as our theme.”
Immediately, Jegeolun expressed his intent to participate.
“‘Wen Wang Zhi Shi’…”
Man Sangcho, with a faint smile, closed his eyes calmly.
The essence of calligraphy lies in first understanding and absorbing the speaker’s emotions and the creator’s worldview.
Before long, Man Sangcho opened his eyes.
“May I borrow the four treasures of the study?”
Jegeolun called over a servant who had been standing nearby.
“Please bring them.”
“Yes, Master.”
The servant soon returned after going somewhere and respectfully handed the four treasures of the study to Man Sangcho.
“Thank you.”
Man Sangcho immediately sat down, ready to grind the ink.
As Jegeolun was about to sit down next to him, he stopped, noticing what was happening.
“Ah…”
What is a *munsa* (Scholar)?
From the poised and dignified gestures with which he grinds the ink, there is a certain noble spirit emanating from him.
It can be described as the very soul of a *munsa*.
One feels overwhelmed by the force of his presence.
The other onlookers are no different in their impressions.
What kind of calligraphy will emerge from him?
Jegeolun, Muyongmin, Namgung Jangho, even Cheongno (clear mind) Jang Ilryong, all hold their breath in anticipation.
Originally, a martial artist is most sensitive to spirit and energy.
Soon, Man Sangcho’s *ilpilhwiji* (With a single stroke)—the sweeping stroke—was revealed.
No one could speak.
“…Aaaah!”
When someone let out a gasp, every eye shot toward him like a lightning strike.
The scholar quickly shut his mouth in fear.
Interrupting this noble realm, disturbing the art of calligraphy, is a disqualification for any scholar.
Merely witnessing such a grand scene was enough to feel deeply moved.
Anyone can speak easily.
They say calligraphy is a great art.
Breathing life into characters, making the viewer feel emotions—that is the ultimate goal of a scholar who dedicates their life to the art of calligraphy.
Look at those characters!
A deep, rich hymn to the glorious Zhou Dynasty unfolds.
That intense praise, the ecstatic emotions, are vividly conveyed in every stroke.
As a scholar, when will one ever again witness such desperate artistry in writing?
Overwhelmed with emotion, some wiped their tears, while others sighed in awe.
A person who, with nothing but calligraphy, can make the viewer think a thousand thoughts.
Man Sangcho, the star of the Confucian world of Zhongyuan, faced with this myth, no one dared to speak.
‘What in the world is this…?’
Even Jegeolun, who was watching the entire spectacle with wide eyes, could hardly accept it as reality.
Is such a level of literary mastery possible at such a young age?
Above all, Jegeolun knew best, for he himself was young.
It was impossible.
He had been called a genius since he was a child, when he first started walking.
Yet, even he had never lived a lazy life.
But what he saw now was something he had never encountered.
Something even imitation would be difficult.
Could someone, even after decades of dedication to calligraphy, reach such a level?
He couldn’t even be sure of that.
Soon, Jegeolun’s shoulders slumped in defeat.
“…I lost.”
All eyes were on Jegeolun, who had been observing the literary contest.
*Jegeolun*, of all people?
For him to admit defeat without even trying to grind the ink once!
Muyongmin was the same.
“I have lost. What is your esteemed name, sir?”
Muyongmin’s eyes, full of admiration, turned toward Cho Hui.
After Man Sangcho had finished his calligraphy and returned to his resting place, Cho Hui’s face was gleaming with delight.
“Hehe! My refrigerator!”
Muyongmin spoke in an awed tone and respectfully extended his hand.
“Refrigerator So-Hyeop, today I have experienced an awakening. You have made me realize that there is truly a heaven above the sky.”
Zhou Hui hurriedly waved his hand.
“Oh, it’s not ‘Refrigerator,’ my name is Zhou Hui.”
“Ah? I understand. Zhou Hui So-Hyeop.”
At this point, Zhou Hui still didn’t know the revolution he had unknowingly sparked in the Confucian world of Zhongyuan.
Ten years later, the democratic ideas (Democratic thought) that would stir the Confucian world of Zhongyuan and ignite fierce debates would have their origins right here, at Mount Hua.
Zhou Hui, completely unaware, was still just blabbering about refrigerators with wide-eyed excitement.