"Is that all you're taking?"

"Yes."

I shook the light bundle in my hand.

Inside were a few sets of clothes, some grain pills, golden wound medicine, and a few books.

I had my money pouch tucked safely in my chest, and a sword hung at my waist.

I wasn’t particularly picky about weapons, but a sword was versatile and convenient, so I chose it.

Besides, there were things I needed to do with the sword before leaving.

"It’ll take about a month to get there."

If I took a shared carriage, I could cut the time in half, but I decided to walk to train my stamina.

"Master! You have to make a name for yourself when you get there!"

The kids from the martial arts hall had come out in full force to see me off after hearing I was leaving.

Zhang, who called himself my "first disciple," clung to my arm and said, "When I turn fifteen, I’ll take the entrance exam for the Azure Dragon Academy! You have to teach me your supreme martial arts then! It’s a promise between men!"

Oh boy.

This little "man" had tears welling up in his eyes.

I pinched his cheek and chuckled.

"Alright."

The reason he said fifteen was because that was the minimum age to enter the Azure Dragon Academy.

Occasionally, exceptional talents from the Nine Sects or prestigious families could get in with a recommendation, but that was rare.

I tugged on Zhang’s sticky rice cake-like cheek and said, "But in five years, this master might not be at the Azure Dragon Academy but at the Heavenly Martial Academy instead."

Though both were among the five great martial academies of the martial world, there was a big difference between the Azure Dragon Academy and the Heavenly Martial Academy.

Naturally, the monthly stipend was also vastly different.

My plan was to first gain experience as a newcomer at the Azure Dragon Academy and then transfer to the Heavenly Martial Academy as an experienced instructor.

"Then I’ll go to the Heavenly Martial Academy too! I’ll definitely learn your supreme martial arts from you!"

Zhang still believed I was the greatest martial artist in the world.

It was a naive thought from a country kid who had never seen a real martial artist.

"Kids at this age change their dreams every morning…"

He might lose interest in martial arts a few days after I left.

I absentmindedly patted his head.

"Right. The Heavenly Martial Academy entrance exam is notoriously tough, so you’ll have to train hard until then."

"Yes!"

I had subtly mixed the Green Forest Eighteen Techniques into the martial arts I usually taught him.

If he kept practicing that, his body would grow strong, and he wouldn’t suffer from minor illnesses in the future.

"Take care, Suryong."

"I packed some pancakes for you to eat on the way."

"It’s hot out, so take this. It’s the best black hat from our shop."

"Are those shoes really enough for such a long journey?"

Besides Zhang and the kids, many villagers had come to see me off.

They handed me snacks, shoes, a black hat, and even a book to read when I got bored (I flipped through it and saw it was a spring painting).

"Why are you all doing so much…"

Perhaps because my father had a good reputation, the villagers showered me with gifts.

I was slightly moved and looked around at the crowd.

There were so many people.

Even if the son of a local dignitary had passed the imperial exam, I doubted this many would gather.

"Wait, this is unusually many people…"

And what’s with those expectant looks in their eyes?

"When exactly is the martial duel starting? My son said he can’t go if he loses."

At the tactless remark of old man Guo, who had dragged his eighty-year-old body here, the villagers closed their mouths like clams and avoided my gaze.

"Of course. These people…"

I turned my head sharply and glared at my father.

"Did you spread the news all over the village?"

"If you don’t like it, you can say you’re not going even now."

"I can’t do that."

I set down the gifts from the villagers and faced my father.

He looked at me with a dissatisfied expression and sighed softly.

"Are you really ready?"

"Yes."

About a month ago, after I had finished the last of the three roots of Polygonum multiflorum and been beaten black and blue by my father with a broom, we had a serious conversation that night.

"Do you really plan to go to the Azure Dragon Academy? And not as a student, but as an instructor?"

"I’ve told you several times already."

"…Some of those students are already reaching or have surpassed the first-rate realm. Do you think you have the skill to teach them?"

"I’m a bit lacking now, but in a month, I’ll be different. You’ll be surprised."

"What on earth…"

"Do I seem like I’m just being reckless?"

We had a staring contest for a while, and in the end, it wasn’t me who sighed first.

As expected, my father was weak when it came to his son.

"Fine. Then convince me before you leave. If you do, I’ll let you go."

And now, a month had passed.

A few days ago, I received a message from Go Juyeol, and I was ready to head to the Azure Dragon Academy.

"I won’t use my internal energy. That’s fair."

Swoosh.

My father drew his sword first.

It wasn’t a practice wooden sword or a blunt sword, but a real one with a sharp edge.

But what was sharper than the blade was the look in his eyes.

"Let’s see how much you’ve changed."

He took the opening stance of the Whirlwind Sword Technique, a secret family martial art, and stared straight at me.

His posture was more cautious and flawless than I had ever seen before.

"This won’t be easy."

Of course, I had no intention of losing.

I drew my sword and took the same stance.

"Whoosh…"

Over the past few months, I had watched my father practice his sword techniques every dawn.

The Whirlwind Sword Technique was a martial art that could be called first-rate, with the subtlety of illusionary and changing sword techniques.

But there was always something missing in my father’s swordplay.

"Could you, as a senior in the martial world, give me three seconds?"

My father smiled softly and slightly moved the tip of his sword.

"Not a chance."

He closed the distance in an instant with light footwork.

I twisted my body slightly and slashed diagonally.

Clang!

The sharp sound of metal.

I took two steps back to dissipate the shock in my wrist.

My father pressed his advantage, aggressively pushing me back.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

The sword strikes came like a storm.

If I lost focus amidst the countless afterimages, I’d be stabbed in a vital point.

I sharpened my concentration and focused on defense, swinging my sword to block.

"Wow!"

"Incredible!"

The high-level swordplay drew cheers from the onlookers.

"I’m the only one suffering here."

This was the swordplay of a martial artist on the verge of reaching the peak of the first-rate realm.

Even without using internal energy, the speed and power were overwhelming.

"Give up now! If you keep going, you’ll get hurt!"

I didn’t even have the energy to reply.

I poured all my focus into blocking my father’s onslaught.

Just holding on was difficult.

It felt like I might drop my sword at any moment.

But I held on.

If I kept holding on…

"I see it!"

Any technique becomes familiar with enough exposure.

Especially if I had watched those techniques being practiced in detail over the past month.

Clang!

A different sound this time.

My counterattack precisely struck the gap between techniques, forcing my father to leap back in surprise.

"You…"

His eyes were filled with disbelief.

I took a moment to catch my breath and grinned.

"Surely that’s not all you’ve got?"

"Hah."

My provocation made my father laugh incredulously.

But the moment my counterattack began, his laughter froze.

"This time, it’s my turn."

I stepped boldly into the storm of swords.

Though blades rained down from all sides, none touched me.

One by one, I deflected the strikes and began to counterattack.

"…!!"

My father’s eyes widened in shock.

As my sword disrupted his flow, his movements became erratic, and the storm of strikes began to lose power.

"Haap!"

My father, flustered, forced strength into his movements.

That was a mistake.

The Whirlwind Sword Technique emphasized the subtlety of changing and illusionary techniques, not brute strength.

Whoosh!

The forced technique left a gap, and I wasn’t foolish enough to miss it.

"Mother’s death wasn’t your fault."

"…!!"

For a split second, my father’s body stiffened.

His sword grazed my shoulder, and I boldly closed the distance.

Yes.

This was psychological warfare.

But it was also something that needed to be said now.

"My being born weak wasn’t your fault either."

"You…!"

The Baek Muheon I knew had the talent to surpass the peak realm, perhaps even reach the transcendent realm.

But something had trapped him behind a wall.

I had gotten a clue about that "something" from Go Juyeol’s words.

"Your father’s sword? It was truly remarkable!"

With a drunken face, he reminisced with a hazy expression.

"Back then, no one in the Azure Dragon Academy could match your father. Do you know? He even made it to the semifinals in the Dragon-Phoenix Duel held at the Heavenly Martial Academy!"

"Brother, it’s embarrassing to talk about the past…"

"Do you know how the other Heavenly Martial Academy guys looked back then? Hahaha! We all benefited from your father back then. When we went out in Hubei, the beautiful ladies who called him the Jade-Faced Scholar…"

"Brotheeer!"

"Hahaha! He was just that cool. Back then, you really seemed free. Not bound by formality, doing whatever you wanted… I was so envious."

A free soul.

But the Baek Muheon I saw wasn’t like that.

He always looked at me with a regretful expression, grumbling but ultimately giving in whenever I insisted.

A father with a soft heart.

"The guilt he felt toward his son created a kind of inner demon."

The Whirlwind Sword Technique I watched him practice every dawn was nearly perfect, but there was no freedom in it.

And the reason was me, Baek Suryong.

"I’m not a burden you have to carry for the rest of your life."

"What are you talking about! Who said you’re a burden!"

Whoosh! Whoosh!

As his mind became unsettled, his precise swordplay crumbled, and his movements grew larger.

It was no longer swordplay but flailing.

There was no way I’d lose to that.

"It’s over."

Tap.

Before I knew it, my sword was at my father’s chest.

"I’ll leave you today."

"You…"

"Don’t feel sorry for me anymore."

"…"

The guilt he felt toward me and my deceased mother weighed heavily on his heart.

Because of it, a martial artist had lost his vitality and freedom.

He had trapped himself behind a wall, losing the possibility of soaring.

I truly wished for him to regain his freedom and soar again.

"You have the talent to reach a much higher level."

"I…"

My father tightened his grip on the sword.

Surely not? If he didn’t concede here, I’d be in a tough spot.

I had won, but in a way, I had played a dirty psychological trick during the duel.

Then, my father, who had been moving his lips slightly, slowly lowered his sword.

"Fine. I lost. Go."

My father let out a deep sigh.

He suddenly looked years older, exhausted, but there was also a sense of relief in his expression.