Jin Ki-jae-chun, also known as Seo-jun, alongside Gwang-hyeol-gwi-ma, and Namgung Hyeok, the Boundless Sea of the Azure Sky, and The Fist King, Pae Jin-gwang.
It was quite the illustrious lineup of mentors.
Just looking at it this way made it clear why there was such a vast gap between martial artists affiliated with major sects and those who weren’t.
Naturally, even a single word of advice from masters at the Supreme Stage could greatly accelerate one's growth.
The progress of those who regularly received such guidance compared to those who only received minimal teachings from the very bottom could hardly be the same.
Even in this place right now, it was evident.
Jang Geuk, the former leader of the Green Forest Alliance, wasn’t someone to be looked down upon anywhere else, but here, he couldn’t even show his credentials.
A concentrated lecture from three top-tier instructors?
No amount of money could buy this kind of opportunity.
"So, consider yourselves lucky," Seo-jun said, flashing a grin as he drew his sword.
"Let’s start with my sister."
"…"
"Uh… Miss Geum. Could you stop looking at me like that?"
"What? I’m just standing here."
"No, it’s just…."
There wasn’t any particular reason for starting with his sister instead of Chun-bong.
"It’s because of the Chang-gung Mu-ae Sword Art. I observed this uncle’s technique and had a bit of a revelation, you know?"
The "uncle," Namgung Hyeok , raised an eyebrow.
"Are you saying you figured something out just from watching once? Truly a prodigy…."
"I’ve seen it multiple times, you know."
Pae Jin-gwang scoffed at Seo-jun’s response.
"One duel counts as one look."
"Yes, yes."
Seo-jun brushed it off and continued his lecture.
"I’ve seen three people use the Chang-gung Mu-ae Sword Art: my father-in-law, my sister, and this uncle here. But it’s clear that my father-in-law and uncle have developed styles that differ significantly from the foundational form."
For Namgung Jin-cheon, it was an empty sky—essentially the sky itself. For Namgung Hyeok, it was the sky reflected over the sea.
So, what about Namgung Su-a?
"Honestly, it’s a bit vague."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah. Not that it’s bad. It’s fine at your current level, but from my perspective, it could be refined."
While it’s often said that all martial arts converge at the end, that "end" is quite far off. One would need to advance at least beyond the current stage to glimpse it.
Until reaching that point, most practitioners don’t aim for a single ultimate goal but rather progress toward a specific mental image.
For instance, like the Heaven-Reversing Sun and Moon Aura or the Wudang Sect’s Taiji Sword.
"I’ve never actually seen the Taiji Sword, so I can’t be sure, but if my father-in-law says it’s like that, then it must be. Just from the name, it’s obviously related to Taiji. The Heaven-Reversing Sun and Moon Art also aims for Taiji, so there’s bound to be some overlap."
"I see… So, my father’s Chang-gung Mu-ae Sword Art embodies the sky, while my great-granduncle’s embodies the sea. I need to find my own foundational mental image as well?"
"Wow, genius much?"
"Haha, praise me too much, and I might get arrogant."
Arrogant Namgung Su-a?
"—Oh, Seo-jun? Could you bring me some water?"
—Yes, right there. Press it down firmly.
Hmm. Not bad.
"Don’t get too sidetracked, kid."
"Ah, right."
Seo-jun refocused and continued his lesson.
"So, I’ll give you an assignment."
"To find a guiding image?"
"Exactly."
Seo-jun grinned.
"I’ll show you an example."
In truth, he had set up this whole discussion just to demonstrate.
Seo-jun unsheathed his sword and executed the Chang-gung Mu-ae Sword Art.
Within his mind, the core principles of the Chang-gung Mu-ae Sword Art scattered and reorganized, adopting the essence of his Baek-ha Gui-yang .
Craaaack!
A small stream flowing through the sky unwound, thread by thread.
As the sword gently swept through the air, the residual blue traces gathered together, forming a massive tidal wave.
Namgung Hyeok, watching the blue-drenched space, couldn’t help but be impressed.
"Marvelous… You’ve reinterpreted Chang-cheon Nak-ha into your own version of the great sea."
Just as Namgung Hyeok observed, Seo-jun had inscribed the vast sea he had once envisioned onto his mental image.
Baek-ha Gui-yang was, in essence, a concept focused on rivers. Until now, there was no sea to complete it, but this moment allowed him to fill that gap splendidly.
It was a successful adaptation.
"Now, here’s the important part."
Seo-jun met Namgung Su-a’s gaze.
"Watch closely."
He scattered the core principles of the Chang-gung Mu-ae Sword Art once more. Replacing the sea imagery was none other than plum blossoms.
Chang-gung Mu-ryang .
The sky disintegrated and scattered. Fragments of the sky danced along Seo-jun’s sword, and as he extended his blade toward the heavens, it soared high.
Whooosh—!!
Amid the flower petals filled with the sky, Seo-jun smirked.
"See that? It’s a bit different from the Heaven-Plum technique you saw before."
The Heaven-Plum was essentially the Plum Blossom Sword imbued with the essence of the sky, whereas Chang-gung Mu-ryang was the Chang-gung Mu-ae Sword Art infused with the essence of plum blossoms.
"Heaven-Plum is fundamentally about the plum blossom, but Chang-gung Mu-ryang ultimately embodies the sky. Get it?"
Namgung Su-a gave a bright smile.
"Haha, sorry, I don’t understand a thing."
"What?"
This was unexpected.
Dejected, Seo-jun sulked in the corner.
Jang Geuk, watching him occasionally glance over at Namgung Su-a receiving instruction from Namgung Hyeok, tried to console him.
"Young master, didn’t I tell you most people can’t follow your explanations?"
"But she’s not just anyone."
"Young master, your standards are… a bit strange. When you created the Lightning-Strike Thunder Heart Technique , everyone seemed to understand. What happened this time?"
"If you couldn’t understand that, you shouldn’t be learning martial arts. Even the neighborhood dog could get it."
"Hmm. Mind if I smack you once?"
"Think you can?"
"Shame."
Grumbling, Seo-jun organized his thoughts.
‘The Lightning-Strike Thunder Heart Technique….’
That was a foundational technique, which was why it could be simplified that way.
High-level martial arts can’t be spoon-fed like baby food.
Doing so would leave the learner stuck, unable to progress further.
He didn’t want Namgung Su-a to end up resenting him in the future.
"Well, no other choice."
He’d just have to take things step-by-step until his sister understood.
Once she found her own guiding image, she’d likely experience explosive growth upon enlightenment.
"Next up is our Chun-bong."
Arms crossed and pouting, Chun-bong glared at Seo-jun, who responded with a grin.
"The main character always shows up last."
"What nonsense is that?"
"It’s true."
Seo-jun cleared his throat.
"I hereby present to you: Chun-bong Shin-gong …!"
Or rather, the prototype for Chun-bong Shin-gong.
The final version would probably be called something like Chun-bong Shin-gong Ultimate Final Real Complete111123 .
"What kind of…?"
Chun-bong debated whether to be angry or pleased.
A martial art named after her? Honestly, it made her happy.
But still, Chun-bong Shin-gong? Did he really think that was an appropriate name?
"You know that a martial art’s name is important."
Seo-jun explained.
"In a way, it sums up the core image of the technique in just a few words."
Just from the names of the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Art, Chang-gung Mu-ae Sword Art, and the Sovereign Sword Form, one could understand the essence of each technique.
"So this martial art can’t be called anything but Chun-bong Shin-gong."
A martial art created solely for her. If anyone else tried to learn it, not only would they be unable to unleash its true power, but they’d likely fall into qi deviation.
"It’s a martial art meant only for you."
Chun-bong, staring at her reflection in his eyes, nodded absently.
Her heart pounded without reason.
Her cheeks, warm and flushed, were gently patted as she shyly nodded.
"…Hmph. Fine."
In that moment, Seo-jun’s breath caught.
The way Chun-bong averted her gaze and nodded bashfully…
"Why is my Chun-bong so adorable!"
"Wah!?"
Seo-jun lifted her up effortlessly, setting her on his shoulders, and dashed off.
"Everyone, look at my Chun-bong!"
"I thought he was serious for once, but this guy…!"
"I am Geum Chun-bong’s big brother!"
Watching Seo-jun’s retreating figure, Jang Geuk looked on in wonder.
"So that’s the same person as back then…?"
Even recalling that terrifying image—the grim expression as he dislocated and reattached his limbs—Jang Geuk shuddered.
Yes. That sight had been nightmarish enough to call him a true demon.
But now, here he was, looking like a fool in front of this girl Chun-bong.
"Perhaps the future of the martial world lies with that girl…."
Then again, maybe that was going too far.
Jang Geuk shook his head.
A whole day flew by as Seo-jun played with Chun-bong.
The next day, just as Seo-jun was about to begin teaching Chun-bong Shin-gong, a visitor arrived.
"Oh, we meet again?"
"It hasn’t been long, has it? It’s good to see you again, benefactor."
Hye-woon greeted him with a peaceful smile, hands clasped together.
It was the monk who had so generously lent Chun-bong his head.
Thinking back, Seo-jun mused that this man might be the closest thing to Buddha himself. After all, enduring such an ordeal with grace was beyond ordinary tolerance.
He probably had a Buddha or two living in his heart.
Accompanying him was another familiar face.
His name was Ji-baek, a monk who had fought alongside Seo-jun during the battle against the Gi-ryeon’s forces.
"Are things better now?"
"Haha, just devoted to my training."
During the war, he had looked like he was on the brink of death, but he seemed in much better shape now.
Seo-jun chuckled and asked.
"So, what brings you here so suddenly?"
"We came to deliver a message from the Martial Alliance."
After scanning the surroundings, Hye-woon continued.
"It’s not exactly a secret… but would you mind if we discussed this inside? Given the nature of the matter."
"Of course."
Seo-jun led them to an appropriate room.
He thought about offering them tea, only to realize he had never actually brewed tea before.
‘I may be at the Supreme Stage, but surely I can manage tea?’
So he brewed it on instinct.
"Here you go."
"Thank you."
"Much appreciated."
After taking a sip, both monks subtly set their cups down.
Noticing their reactions, Seo-jun took a sip himself.
"Hmm."
Seo-jun pushed the tea aside with an awkward laugh.
"So, what’s the matter? Bad news?"
"That depends. You could say the Martial Alliance owes you an apology. That’s partly why Ji-baek and I, who are acquainted with you, were sent."
Seo-jun tilted his head, having no memory of any involvement with the Martial Alliance.
"Did the Martial Alliance ever do anything for me?"
"Well… that’s the issue. You could say it’s compensation for failing to do what we should have."
"Oh."
That was fair. The Martial Alliance hadn’t exactly been helpful during his battles.
"Still, it’s unexpected. I hadn’t even asked for any compensation."
"Did you not know? I heard Lady Namgung sent several long letters of complaint on your behalf."
"Oh."
Apparently, his sister had been much more upset about it than she let on.