The moment his Arhat Divine Palm collided with the Taiji of Cheongsu Dojang, Mu-gung realized something crucial.

‘…He completely deflected it.’

The heavy sensation he felt when he clashed with the Splendid Light Thirteen Hands of Ilhwi Dojang during their last duel was entirely absent this time.

At first glance, it seemed as if he had gained the upper hand.

Cheongsu Dojang, drawing a Taiji, had stepped back a pace upon impact.

However, this movement was solely to perfectly deflect the force of the Arhat Divine Palm. Cheongsu Dojang’s posture, having stepped back a pace, did not waver in the slightest.

But could a match be decided in just one exchange?

Mu-gung, with concise movements, advanced on Cheongsu Dojang again, relentlessly thrusting his crimson-tinted hands.

Clang!

Each time, Cheongsu Dojang danced with light metallic sounds that were hard to believe resulted from clashing with the heavy Arhat Divine Palm.

‘Damn it. Like that guy, Muyul!’

Indeed, Cheongsu Dojang was truly dancing.

He moved diagonally in response to Mu-gung’s movements, performing a sword dance.

At a glance, it seemed like he was retreating, but upon closer inspection, he was merely tracing a large circle on the martial stage, deflecting all of Mu-gung’s Arhat Divine Palm.

And he did so with a joyful smile, reminiscent of that guy, Muyul.

For some reason, Mu-gung began to understand the sentiments of Paeng Gahu.

“Hahaha, you are truly outstanding!”

Cheongsu Dojang, having deflected all of Mu-gung’s continuous palm strikes, burst into a pleased laugh.

Cheongsu Dojang was genuinely enjoying the match.

In the past, after losing to Mu-jin, he had devoted himself to his swordsmanship, replaying Mu-jin’s martial arts in his mind every night.

However, there was a problem: there was no one in Wudang who demonstrated such excessively heavy martial arts like Mu-jin.

As a result, he had to refine his swordsmanship by engaging in imagined duels with the phantom Mu-jin.

Therefore, Mu-gung’s Arhat Divine Palm was quenching the thirst in Cheongsu Dojang’s heart. It was as heavy as the brute force Mu-jin had displayed in the past.

Although he had completely deflected Mu-gung’s Arhat Divine Palm, the heavy energy transmitted through his sword each time he deflected it.

The heaviness, enough to make his fingertips tingle, brought joy to Cheongsu Dojang.

But that was solely from Cheongsu Dojang’s perspective.

Seeing his ecstatic face, Mu-gung couldn’t help but get more riled up.

‘Hoo. I must stay calm!’

If he got too excited and ended up like Paeng Gahu, experiencing internal chaos, it would be an utter disgrace.

Mu-gung took a deep breath, regulated his inner energy, and then summoned all his calm inner energy from his danjeon.

‘With my current Arhat Divine Palm, I cannot break through Cheongsu Dojang’s defense. Besides, I cannot win in a long-term fight.’

Mu-gung had heard from Mu-jin that Cheongsu Dojang had even consumed Wudang’s Taecheongdan, comparable to Shaolin’s Great Rejuvenation Pill.

In other words, he was overwhelmingly disadvantaged in terms of internal power.

Therefore, Mu-gung decided to shake Cheongsu Dojang’s defense with his strongest move.

Even if it meant depleting all his inner energy, it didn’t matter.

‘Break through the defense and finish it with external power.’

He still had his robust body, which had been forcibly trained by Mu-jin.

With this determination, the inner energy from his danjeon surged fiercely through his body’s meridians.

The intense Yang energy, akin to molten lava, tried to rampage, but the restrictive energy surrounding it controlled it like the Golden Band of Sun Wukong.

‘There’s only one chance.’

The Seventy-Two Supreme Arts of Shaolin consumed a vast amount of inner energy, true to their reputation as ultimate techniques.

Since his duel with Ilhwi Dojang, Mu-gung had only been using the first stance, which consumed the least amount of internal energy.

Now, Mu-gung was preparing the most powerful stance he could muster, a move that would burn all his remaining inner energy at once.

“Haaaah!”

With a spirited shout, Mu-gung stepped forward and thrust his palm. The crimson heat of the Arhat Divine Palm, which had been confined to his palm, began to expand.

As the giant hand, resembling the palm of a massive Buddha statue, descended upon Cheongsu Dojang, Mu-gung saw it clearly.

The ecstatic expression on Cheongsu Dojang’s face, as if he were in bliss.

“Hahahahaha!!”

Contrary to his burst of fierce laughter, Cheongsu Dojang’s movements were not fast.

They weren’t fast, but his continuous motions met Mu-gung’s Arhat Divine Palm with his sword.

At the moment of collision with the giant hand, Cheongsu Dojang’s sword moved backward, seemingly pushed by the force.

However, Mu-gung knew.

He wasn’t being pushed back by the force; he was retreating of his own accord.

Cheongsu Dojang’s sword wasn’t merely retreating; it was drawing a giant Taiji.

No, it wasn’t just the sword drawing the Taiji.

‘…This is what they call the unity of body and sword.’

Cheongsu Dojang’s feet moved in sync with the sword’s movements, and the footwork he used was also drawing a Taiji.

Not only his wrist holding the sword or his feet but also his shoulders, waist, and hips were all drawing the Taiji, deflecting Mu-gung’s giant hand.

This was the method Cheongsu Dojang had discovered over the past year and a half.

A way to deflect Mu-jin’s brute and terrifyingly strong attacks.

No matter how much he refined the subtleties of his martial arts, he couldn’t find a way to deflect that brute force with swordsmanship alone.

Thus, Cheongsu Dojang decided to become the sword himself.

To be precise, the close combat techniques and physical training methods he learned through Mu-jin inspired him.

The inspiration that one could deflect attacks with the whole body, not just the sword or wrist, by developing flexibility.

Following that inspiration, he spent over a year honing his unique Taeguk Haegum, a slow sword dance performed with his entire body.

At the moment his sword dance came to a halt,

The great hand sent by Mu-gung had already vanished without a trace.

Mu-gung, who intended to shake the opponent’s defense and finish with an external attack, stood still like a statue, muttering to himself.

“This is why I hate geniuses.”

The Cheongsu Dojang, who had deflected the great hand, did not show even the slightest sign of disruption.

* * *

Mu-jin, who had been watching the sparring match, muttered to himself, feeling inexplicably apologetic.

“I’m sorry, Mu-gung.”

Honestly, the main reason Mu-gung was defeated in this match, if you really think about it, was himself.

‘I’m sure the Cheongsu Dojang from the novel wasn’t this skilled…’

In the novel, Cheongsu Dojang was a minor character in the orthodox faction.

Of course, even in the novel, he eventually achieved the unity of sword and mind, but that was supposed to be a few years later.

It seemed that his growth had accelerated since meeting him. If Cheongsu Dojang had remained as he was in the novel, Mu-gung might have won.

‘Mu-gung, that guy. He’s going to be depressed again for a while.’

Thinking of the burly but surprisingly sensitive Mu-gung shrinking his broad shoulders in disappointment made him feel even more apologetic.

“Why is he doing that?”

However, a slightly different scene than Mu-jin had expected was unfolding on the martial arts stage.

* * *

Defeat.

What Mu-gung hated the most in the world. Even worse, a defeat on the martial arts stage in front of countless onlookers.

Mu-gung felt like he wanted to crawl into a hole and hide.

“Wowww!!”

Suddenly, a tremendous cheer and applause erupted from the crowd surrounding the martial arts stage.

Mu-gung naturally thought all the applause and cheers were directed at Cheongsu Dojang.

“Is this truly a match between advanced disciples?”

“Both warriors are truly magnificent!”

“The great hand displayed by Mu-gung at the end was truly a formidable skill.”

Amidst the cheers, there were also voices praising him.

Of course, there were more praises directed at the victor, Cheongsu Dojang, but there were no mocking or critical voices directed at him.

Although he had lost, everyone appreciated his excellent skills.

For Mu-gung, who felt like he was falling into an abyss, it was a situation that naturally brought a smile to his face.

‘No, I must not smile! Smiling after a defeat!’

But he tried his best to maintain a composed expression to show a dignified appearance to the audience.

“Indeed, the swordsmanship of Wudang is unparalleled. Today, I have learned a great deal. Amitabha.”

Instead, he respectfully bowed to Cheongsu Dojang with a dignified attitude.

A proud loser, a commendable disciple of the orthodox faction who fought fairly.

Mu-gung wanted to portray such an image.

“Haha, the martial arts of Shaolin were also excellent. I have also gained a lot. Boundless Longevity.”

It meant that Mu-gung was an excellent sparring partner to prepare for the next match with Mu-jin.

But such intentions did not matter to Mu-gung.

‘Hehe, a closely matched duel and mutual admiration between advanced disciples. Cheongsu Dojang is more stylish than I thought.’

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