The Legend of the Northern Blade
chapter-136

Kwan San-Cheol’s glare bore into Nam Soo-Ryun, eliciting only a faint furrow of her brow in response. Her eyes remained remarkably composed, unyielding like a placid sea. Kwan San-Cheol, the provocateur, found himself increasingly bewildered by her unwavering gaze, which seemed to diminish his very being.

Jin Mu-Won observed the standoff and muttered softly, “Is she using Spiritual Pressure?”

In the unhindered qi realm of inner arts mastery, one’s power would naturally radiate through their eyes. Though it couldn’t cause physical harm, it was a powerful mental attack, especially against someone with weaker inner arts or mental fortitude.

Nam Soo-Ryun’s ability to unleash Spiritual Pressure, a qi control ability that could inflict more damage than martial techniques, was a testament to her extraordinary skill.

“Keuk!” Kwan San-Cheol winced, buckling under the mental weight.

“Haha! You two look positively murderous today. Let’s part ways for now and reconvene later,” Jwa Moon-Ho intervened, positioning himself between the two.

“Huff… Huff…” Kwan San-Cheol exhaled sharply, relieved of the pressure Nam Soo-Ryun had exerted on him.

Nam Soo-Ryun narrowed her eyes. The failure of her Spiritual Pressure indicated that Jwa Moon-Ho was more formidable than she had expected.

Jwa Moon-Ho’s eyes shifted to Tang Mi-Ryeo and the others around Nam Soo-Ryun. Yesterday, she was alone, but today, she had a group in tow. He intended to inquire about them, but she turned her back to him and stormed off before he could speak.

“Oh?” Suddenly, his gaze fixed on Jin Mu-Won. As a swordsman dedicated to perfection, he instantly recognized the exceptional sword hidden beneath Jin Mu-Won’s maroon robe, and a flicker of avarice danced in his eyes.

“Hey, bitch!” Kwan San-Cheol blurted, unable to contain his frustration.

“Silence,” Kwan San-Woong, his brother, cautioned. “Do you wish to make a spectacle of yourself? You have ample time and opportunities to make amends.”

As the elder brother, Kwan San-Woong exhibited more composure than his impulsive sibling, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his own yearning for recognition.

For any young martial artist striving for the pinnacle, being overshadowed by the Seven Young Skies, peers of similar age who possessed unparalleled strength and prestige, was disheartening.

“…Losers. All brawn and no balls,” Myeong Ryu-San muttered under his breath as he trailed after Nam Soo-Ryun.

Fortunately, as the comment wasn’t directed at them, the Monochrome Bears didn’t have a good reason to take offense at his insult, and could only watch as Myeong Ryu-San melted into the crowd.

When they were out of earshot, Nam Soo-Ryun stopped and explained about Jwa Moon-Ho and the Azure Dragon Society.

Tang Gi-Mun frowned. This was his first time hearing of the Azure Dragon Society. “Hmm… What the Azure Dragon Society is trying to do is really dangerous.”

Ha Jin-Wol, on the other hand, already knew of the society.

…Seomoon Hye-Ryung, the only person to ever humiliate me.

In his last encounter with Seomoon Hye-Ryung, she had urged him to join the Azure Dragon Society, an offer he had promptly declined. Seomoon Hye-Ryung’s ideals of absolute control, reminiscent of the Nine Skies, differed from his vision of the gangho as a fun place that thrived on uncertainty.

Apparently, as early as a decade ago, Seomoon Hye-Ryung had joined forces with Dam Soo-Cheon and founded the Azure Dragon Society in order to achieve her goal. Whether or not they would be successful remained uncertain, but its potential as one of the most powerful organizations of the future was undeniable. Moreover, their influence would only grow when Dam Soo-Cheon emerged from his seclusion training.

Ha Jin-Wol’s gaze shifted to Jin Mu-Won, who stood overlooking the vast expanse of water. His visage was stern, his eyes profound, and an aura of stillness enveloped him.

Only one young martial artist in the whole world can contend with the Lone Star of the Azure Sky.

Seomoon Hye-Ryung, if you bet your all on the Lone Star of the Azure Sky, then I’ll wager mine on Jin Mu-Won.

His desire for revenge that had previously cooled down was rekindled. Ha Jin-Wol bit his lip until it bled.

“Are you alright?” Jin Mu-Won asked, sensing Ha Jin-Wol’s abnormal condition.

“What do you mean?”

“You look like something’s bothering you.”

“Pfft, it’s customary for someone my age to reflect.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, indeed. More importantly, never allow yourself to lose to anyone, ever.”

“What?” Confused, Jin Mu-Won stared at Ha Jin-Wol, to which Ha Jin-Wol responded with a firm gaze.

“…Okay.” Jin Mu-Won nodded, instinctively understanding Ha Jin-Wol’s intention.

Ha Jin-Wol rested an arm on Jin Mu-Won’s shoulder and asserted, “Stay vigilant. Your journey has only just begun.”

“I know.”

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“Yes, you do.”

The two contemplated the flowing waters in silence for a long time.

Suddenly, Nam Soo-Ryun walked over to them, bowed, and said, “I sincerely apologize for getting you entangled in this.”

“A striking woman inevitably attracts admirers. No need to apologize. If you’re guilty of anything, it’s being too beautiful,” Ha Jin-Wol remarked playfully.

“What?” Nam Soo-Ryun’s eyes widened.

Ha Jin-Wol chuckled, “Haha! Just kidding! I wanted to see you smile.”

“Ahh!”

“As the saying goes, a fox may borrow a tiger’s prowess, but it is still a fox. Don’t waste your energy on such individuals, they’re everywhere anyway.”

“Yes.” Nam Soo-Ryun smiled. Ha Jin-Wol’s criticism of the Monochrome Bears was blunt and derogatory, a refreshing departure from the polite language used within the Mount Mu Sect. His frankness, devoid of any pretense, was endearing.

Nam Soo-Ryun’s gaze shifted to Jin Mu-Won. Initially, she had considered him an ordinary martial artist and paid him scant attention, but as they spent more time together, an unfamiliar unease gnawed at her.

This man is no ordinary martial artist.

Although she was labeled as one of the Seven Young Skies, she was aware that she hadn’t done anything to deserve it and took no pride in it. She had been given the title simply because she was the successor of the Mount Mu Sect.

Rather than empty titles and staged duels, she believed that the route to the pinnacle required enduring numerous trials. Hence, she had ventured beyond her sect to gain experience and engage with fellow martial artists her age.

To her dismay, most approached her captivated by her beauty, but few genuinely sought martial mastery. Nevertheless, these interactions honed her abilities considerably. Her adversaries shared common traits: admiration, critique, and a fiery passion. Jwa Moon-Ho and the Monochrome Bears belonged to this category, and so she was unafraid of them. Defeat was possible, but not humiliation.

Jin Mu-Won, however, was an enigma.

I cannot fathom this man. No matter how she honed her senses, she couldn’t sense his qi. It was as though a shroud of darkness concealed everything, unsettling her in unfamiliar ways and igniting her dormant fighting spirit.

Suddenly, Jin Mu-Won turned to face Nam Soo-Ryun. His All-Encompassing Cognizance had detected her heightened fighting spirit.

They exchanged wordless gazes, and Ha Jin-Wol observed them with keen interest.

Finally, Nam Soo-Ryun broke the silence. “Master Jin, would you spar with me sometime?”

“Of course.”

Their agreement bore the weight of a martial artist’s commitment.

To the side, Ha Jin-Wol’s face fell in disappointment. He had been expecting an interesting conversation.

Suddenly, Myeong Ryu-San shamelessly shouted, “Can I spar with you too?”

His gaze, filled with jealousy toward Jin Mu-Won’s interaction with Nam Soo-Ryun, overshadowed any remnants of last night’s pain.

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Ha Jin-Wol burst into laughter, “Heh, as the saying goes, ignorance is bliss.”

“Are you calling me ignorant?”

“Yes, stupid.”

“You…!” Myeong Ryu-San grumbled, unperturbed by Ha Jin-Wol’s taunts.

Jin Mu-Won raised an eyebrow, finding the spectacle ridiculous but amusing.

Ha Jin-Wol shook his head, then said to Jin Mu-Won, “Don’t just stand there, handle this thing yourself.”

Jin Mu-Won smiled.

Instantly, Myeong Ryu-San felt a shiver down his spine as an ominous foreboding engulfed him.

Jin Mu-Won didn’t disappoint. “I’d be delighted to spar with you,” he replied.

“Oh, shit!” Myeong Ryu-San winced, feeling the ache of his bruises as the weight of his regrets washed over him like a tidal wave.