Pae Yul’s eyes went wide.

“What is this—who the hell are you people?”

Ga Deoksang brought his hands together in a cupped-fist salute.

“We greet our martial uncle.”

Behind him, the three others—two men and two women—also bowed their heads.

“...?”

Pae Yul froze, flustered.

He was already shocked they’d shown up [N O V E L I G H T] with blood speckled all over their clothes, but what was this about folding at the waist like they were about to bury their faces in the dirt?

Why am I your martial uncle?

The words almost burst out on their own.

But right before he actually said it, Pae Yul barely managed to recall what Yeon Hojeong had told him before they split up.

We’re descendants of the Martial Ancestor Sect. We’re senior and junior brothers and sisters—and you’re the martial uncle in our cover. We’ll set the tone, so you just have to play along.

What is this, some kids’ game?

And yet, hearing someone call him “martial uncle” for real made the feeling... strangely complicated.

Pae Yul cleared his throat.

“...Good. You made it.”

The awkwardness dripped from his voice. Only then did the four of them straighten up.

“But what’s with the blood?”

Ga Deoksang smacked his lips.

“Some random trash was tailing us. Second caught almost all of them, but the leftovers tried to run, so we split up and each grabbed one.”

Second... who was “Second”...?

Tang Sang-a stepped in smoothly, reading the room instantly.

“I’m sorry. If I’d been more thorough, you wouldn’t have had to get your hands dirty.”

“Hey. Don’t say that, martial sister. They were way too well-hidden. And who would’ve expected someone to be on our heels in the first place?”

“Still... who do you think it was?”

“No idea. Going by how petty it was, it feels like some White Path punks—but the White Path doesn’t have much pull in this region.”

“Then it’s probably the Dark Path.”

“Probably.”

Je Gal Ahyeon slid into the conversation, playing the airheaded youngest like it was second nature.

“But won’t this turn into a problem for us? We’re going to meet Dark Path people right now, aren’t we? What was the name again—Yang...?”

Yeon Hojeong clamped a hand over Je Gal Ahyeon’s mouth on reflex. Je Gal Ahyeon smacked Yeon Hojeong’s shoulder like she was suffocating.

Yeon Hojeong spoke flatly.

“That’s confidential, martial sister.”

“Mmph!”

“I told you before, didn’t I? A lot of people ruined their lives because they couldn’t keep their mouths shut. You need to be more seri—urk!”

Yeon Hojeong staggered.

Je Gal Ahyeon had driven her elbow into his stomach.

Je Gal Ahyeon spat—ptoo, ptoo.

“You didn’t even wash your hands! Where do you think you’re putting them?!”

“Cough!”

“Huh? Are you okay?”

“I’m not okay, you little—!”

Pae Yul stared at the four of them with bleary eyes.

These idiots are having the time of their lives.

Times like this, it was the duty of an elder to step in. Pae Yul spoke in a slightly stern voice.

“There are a lot of eyes on us. Watch yourselves.”

“Kff!”

Pae Yul shot Ga Deoksang a murderous glare.

Ga Deoksang hastily wiped the grin off his face and cleared his throat.

“My apologies. I choked.”

“You. I’ll see you separately.”

“...Yes.”

Yeon Hojeong scanned the surroundings.

This isn’t bad.

This tavern was huge. Even this late, a decent number of people were still scattered around, sitting and drinking.

Ssssh.

From Yeon Hojeong’s fingertips, the Azure Dragon Qi spilled out in fine threads.

Among the Four Spirit True Qi, the Azure Dragon Qi was the most sensitive—and as soft as the Black Tortoise Qi—making it ideal for delicate work.

The formless qi spread in every direction.

Nine.

There were nine people in this broad tavern who had cultivated Inner Qi.

That wasn’t as many as he’d expected. If anything, it was normal.

Even if the Dark Path had quietly taken control of all of Hunan, this was a small city planted on the far western edge of the province.

And the Dark Path’s high-level ranks were thin to begin with. With that in mind, this number was almost on the high side.

We’ll climb from the bottom, step by step.

Yeon Hojeong’s gaze drifted to Tang Sang-a.

Tang Sang-a was chatting with Je Gal Ahyeon, laughing like whatever they were talking about was genuinely fun. The heads of their two houses were practically clawing at each other’s throats, yet the children looked close enough to pass for real sisters.

You need to do your job as bait.

Yeon Hojeong had no doubt her presence would make their mission smoother—and far more efficient.

“Alright. Should we eat, too?”

*****

That night.

WHOOOOM.

Outside the bamboo grove beyond the outer wall, Yeon Hojeong sat in lotus position. Around his body, four colored currents revolved.

It looked like something out of a spirit tale. Black, white, red, and blue—four different energies—burned bright like fireflies, winding around him.

It was a mysterious sight. It didn’t feel like qi that belonged to his body so much as the will of the natural world itself, shielding him.

Good.

Yeon Hojeong felt satisfied.

Now it’s balanced.

After returning to the past, the first thing he’d mastered was the Black Tortoise Qi. Naturally, that meant the Black Tortoise Qi had been the densest.

But the Four Spirit energies were bound together organically—each one growing and being controlled through the others. Considering principles like Water birthing Wood, and Wood birthing Fire, it was only natural.

And once those four energies reached balance in both quality and quantity, the four of them began to develop together, gradually, as one.

In the Four Spirit Martial Arts, this state was called the “Proper Form.” It meant every energy stood straight—none leaning too far, none dominating the rest.

That means I’ve crossed a stage.

After completing the Four Spirit Qi, the first gate he had to clear was Proper Form.

Yeon Hojeong had finished it only after breaking through that martial wall.

That was exactly why he’d refused to draw out every last drop of his energies until his body and True Qi reached their limits. Even the same kind of growth became more efficient—and granted deeper insight—when it happened from a higher starting point.

“Whew.”

He let out a light breath and opened his eyes. Then he picked up the long spear resting beside him.

Not bad.

After dinner, he’d bought an iron spear from a nearby smithy.

It was no lightweight, made from solid iron—but to Yeon Hojeong, who swung a Mad Dragon (Axe) that weighed over eighty geun, it was nothing.

He gripped the middle of the shaft and spun it.

WOOOSH. WOOOOSH.

The sound of the shaft cutting the air in a circle was heavy, clean.

Good balance point. The head’s a decent length, too. I got lucky.

The Mad Dragon (Axe) was far too flashy a weapon. The Flood Dragon Chain wasn’t any different.

With the name Green Mountain Tiger General already shaking the martial world, there was no way he could stroll around carrying those two signature weapons without drawing every eye on the road. So he’d chosen a spear.

The first thing he’d trained to handle an axe wasn’t an axe at all—it was spear techniques. If he fought with a spear and barehanded strikes, he could narrow the gap between that and his full strength with the Mad Dragon (Axe).

Yeon Hojeong kicked off the ground.

PAAAAANG!

He covered the short distance in an instant, then unleashed spearwork overflowing with power.

THUD-THUD-THUD!

In a blink, spearheads multiplied into more than ten—each one leaving the same mark dead center on ten bamboo stalks.

A flicker of surprise crossed Yeon Hojeong’s face.

I thought I’d gotten rusty, since it’s been a while... but it feels like I’ve grown instead.

That, too, had to be the effect of Proper Form. With no wasted force, his spearwork had become more precise.

SHHHHHK!

The spearhead carved the wind, flashing with a clean gleam.

His movements were looser than usual—fluid, almost lazy.

It didn’t look like practice.

It looked like a dance.

And yet the cutting and thrusting power of the spearhead never dulled.

Ssssh—sssh—sssh.

Bamboo leaves that had fallen to the ground surged up along the spearhead’s path.

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes burned.

THUMP!

He stamped the shaft into the earth, and dozens of leaves that had been gliding through the air along the spearhead shattered into fragments.

“...Mm. Good. That’s enough.”

He wanted to keep going for half a day, honestly—but he should stop here tonight.

“Are you going to call me ‘martial uncle’ here, too?”

At the sudden question, a snort came from the darkest pocket of shadow in the bamboo grove.

“There’s no one around. Drop that skin-crawling title.”

Yeon Hojeong smiled.

“You never know.”

“You, of all people, don’t need to say it. And my senses aren’t that shabby.”

“That’s exactly why I’m saying it. So I don’t loosen up over that ‘never know’ and lose tension.”

“If someone strong enough to muddle even our senses is already involved, doesn’t that mean this mission is doomed?”

He wasn’t wrong.

Yeon Hojeong folded his arms, still holding the spear.

“It’s late. Why aren’t you asleep?”

“You beat me to it, brat. I figured I’d come out and get some training in.”

“I see. I’m done for the night. Use it.”

“Before that.”

PAAAAANG!

Pae Yul’s sword shot in like an arrow.

It was a flawless ambush—fast and sudden to the point of absurdity—yet there was no Killing Intent in it.

Which made it even more terrifying.

Yeon Hojeong unfolded his arms and flicked the butt of the spear up with his foot.

KRAAANG!

The sword that skimmed past the shaft halted.

TIIIIING!

Bamboo leaves spun along with the spear shaft as it rotated in place.

Yeon Hojeong caught the shaft in his hand.

WHOOOOM.

The wind died.

Pae Yul let out a sigh.

“Like I thought. Doesn’t work.”

“That was a clean ambush. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a sword strike with Killing Intent suppressed that completely.”

“Cocky mouth. And what do you mean, ‘a long time’? Sounds like you’ve lived a fairly bloody life yourself.”

Yeon Hojeong just smiled without answering.

Pae Yul stared at him, sword still unsheathed.

“Do you have something you want to say to me?”

“Not really.”

“Then can I go now?”

“No.”

“...Huh?”

Only then did Yeon Hojeong read the hesitation on Pae Yul’s face.

Seriousness settled over Yeon Hojeong’s expression.

“Is something wrong?”

“It’s a problem, if you want to call it that.”

“What is it?”

Pae Yul went quiet again.

The hesitation only grew more obvious. Yeon Hojeong tensed.

After a short silence, Pae Yul finally spoke.

“If we’re calling ourselves the Martial Ancestor Sect, then no matter what... we shouldn’t be pulling out our signature arts, should we.”

“That’s right.”

“And bringing the Tang Clan girl along—it’s because it’s hard to read the patterns of hidden weapons, isn’t it?”

“That’s part of it.”

Pae Yul cleared his throat.

“Anyway. Watch this.”

“...Yes?” 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

SHHHHK!

Pae Yul’s sword cut through the air.

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes widened.

What the hell is this?

It was swordsmanship with lines too soft for Pae Yul.

Of course, that didn’t mean it lacked power. If anything, it was the opposite—he used a flowing path to draw the enemy in, then answered with a single, killing counter. The technique was exquisite.

Did Azure Mountain Sect have something like this?

Then again, if you were one of the Nine Great Sects, you’d have more than one art that could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with your “main” signature technique.

It’s less... brutally practical than his usual style, but the level of the swordsmanship itself is higher.

A moment later, Pae Yul stopped.

His face was slightly flushed. It wasn’t like he’d get winded from showing off one set of moves.

“Ahem! Well? What do you think?”

“Is that Azure Mountain Sect swordsmanship?”

“...Well. Yeah.”

Yeon Hojeong answered honestly.

“It’s an excellent sword art. It loses some of Azure Mountain Sect’s usual sharpness and extremity, but the trade is solid harmony. And the counters are incredible.”

“R-really?”

“Yes. There are a few gaps here and there in the chained flow, but it’s too appealing an art to nitpick. The higher you climb, the more the practical edge will fill in, too.”

Pae Yul’s face brightened.

“You think it’ll work in real fights?”

Yeon Hojeong nodded.

“You seem to understand that sword art deeply. It fits you like it was tailored.”

“Heh.”

Pae Yul actually laughed out loud.

“So long as you saw it that way, that’s enough.”

“...Yes?”

“Ahem. I’m going back first.”

“What about your training?”

Pae Yul didn’t even answer. He vanished. His footsteps carried a weird kind of excitement.

Yeon Hojeong frowned.

“What the hell was that? He just confessed at me and ran like an idiot.”