KWOOOONG—!

“Pass!”

Contrary to Seolhwa’s expectations, more and more candidates began passing the trial in succession.

Without a single failure, the fifth had just succeeded.

Even Yu Pyo, who had been watching the test with mild curiosity at first, had long since lost his amused expression.

— These aren’t Second-Generation Disciples.

— Seems that way.

Yu Pyo had noticed it as well.

Of course he had.

No matter how prestigious Shaolin was, a test that could only be passed by those beyond Peak would not be cleared so easily by ordinary Second-Generation Disciples.

‘It felt off from the beginning.’

Being led to the Training Hall, the way she’d been observed since her arrival—everything about the situation.

Even the difficulty of the trial felt far beyond what was appropriate for Second-Generation Disciples.

‘So they weren’t practicing internal cultivation from the start.’

It didn’t mean that every monk here wasn’t a Second-Generation Disciple.

Rather, among the crowd of Second-Generation Disciples were hidden masters—those who had volunteered to take the trial were precisely them.

— I don’t know what their scheme is.

If this was all to flaunt Shaolin’s strength, it was overkill.

There was no real reason to go to such lengths either.

Seolhwa and Yu Pyo heightened their vigilance.

— Imugi. How many masters above Super Peak level are present?

[At least ten. Among those watching from a distance, I believe one is at the Hwagyeong realm.]

A Hwagyeong-level master.

‘The only ones at Shaolin with that realm are the current Abbot and the former one.’

That meant one of them was watching her right now.

While Seolhwa processed the situation, the trial briefly paused.

From the monks’ side, Doryang began walking toward the three of them.

— If any conflict breaks out, don’t resist pointlessly. Just surrender.

— Surely it won’t come to that. It’s Shaolin, after all. Annoying, maybe, but they know decorum.

— Let’s hope so.

To be blunt, if they killed her here and played dumb, who would know?

This was Shaolin’s territory.

“Quite a spectacle, don’t you think?”

Doryang asked with a smile of clear satisfaction on his lips.

Yu Pyo clicked his tongue and turned his head away.

“I’m impressed by the monks’ martial prowess. The trial itself was one thing, but I didn’t expect so many to pass.”

“Haha, that’s because we prioritized volunteers. Soon enough, you’ll see them start failing as well.”

Doryang gave the monks a sideways glance, then turned his eyes back to Seolhwa.

His gaze scanned her as if taking her measure.

“Have you ever trained in palm techniques?”

“I’ve trained in my clan’s palm techniques.”

The Namgoong Clan was known for swordsmanship, but that didn’t mean they only taught sword arts.

Doryang’s lips curved ever so slightly.

“As you know, this temple has had little interaction with noble clans. Perhaps because of that, our disciples are quite curious about your martial arts. If you wouldn’t mind—”

“That’s not going to happen.”

Before Doryang could even finish, Yu Pyo stepped in between the two.

Standing squarely in front of Seolhwa, he continued in his signature, irritating tone.

“Don’t you know that indulging every whim just spoils the disciples? You’d make a great mentor, Master Monk.”

“I wasn’t speaking to you.”

“And I was talking to myself.”

“Then step aside. I was speaking with Lady Namgoong.”

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that.”

Yu Pyo shifted to block the space between them even more thoroughly.

Seolhwa had to crane her neck slightly to catch a glimpse of Doryang beyond Yu Pyo’s shoulder.

With the sun behind him, Doryang’s face fell into shadow.

“Yu Pyo Dojang.”

His large, burly frame and hardened expression gave him a rather intimidating air.

“I’m aware of Mount Hua’s longstanding ties with the Namgoong Clan, but cutting in like this isn’t exactly honorable conduct.”

“And is dragging us here to flaunt techniques not even used by Second-Generation Disciples honorable?”

“...I don’t follow.”

Yu Pyo responded with a dry chuckle.

“Seems like Shaolin is overflowing with top-tier masters these days.”

He gestured toward the stone slab.

“A trial like that is not something a Second-Generation Disciple could pass—not even at Shaolin. And yet, you try to pass them off as such with me watching? Should I consider this a slight against Mount Hua?”

“...”

The tension between them crackled like lightning.

Though no inner force was released, the two facing off gave the impression of giant beasts on the verge of lunging at one another.

Seolhwa turned to Doryang. His throat bobbed with a faint tremble.

And then, Yu Pyo gave a small snort.

They had been speaking through transmitted voice.

A long silence passed.

— Lady Namgoong.

Yu Pyo whispered to Seolhwa.

— Have you ever crossed Shaolin in the past?

Seolhwa opened her mouth to answer, Of course not, but fell silent.

A thought suddenly struck her.

‘The Great Restoration Pill.’

The one that had passed from Shaolin to Mount Hua four years ago had ended up in her possession through Heukunbang.

Technically, it was Mount Hua who had been robbed—but Shaolin would have certainly tracked its whereabouts as well.

‘Could that be it?’

— Why aren’t you answering? Don’t tell me... you really did?

— I... can’t say I didn’t.

— Oh no.

Yu Pyo’s previously firm expression noticeably wavered.

— That damned monk says he has something to find out from you.

Something to uncover.

If it was related to the Great Restoration Pill, then it wasn’t something Yu Pyo could resolve.

— I’ll handle it.

— Figured it’d come to this.

Yu Pyo stepped aside without breaking eye contact with Doryang.

At last, Seolhwa and Doryang stood face to face.

“You want to see my martial arts.”

“Yes. I won’t force you, of course.”

Seolhwa looked around—the stone slab, the monks radiating sharp auras, the broad central platform.

‘You won’t force me, huh.’

Hadn’t he just orchestrated this entire situation?

‘If I fail here, I’ll be branded as someone weaker than even Shaolin’s Second-Generation Disciples.’

Even if those monks weren’t truly Second-Generation Disciples, Shaolin had presented them as such—denying it now wouldn’t be easy.

Who would listen to the loser’s words in an event hosted by Shaolin?

They’d say she was making excuses to protect her clan’s pride.

Exactly.

This trial wasn’t just about Seolhwa. The reputation of the entire martial noble clans was on the line.

Shaolin’s monks would treat future noble disciples based on what Seolhwa displayed here.

‘Clever.’

They’d created a situation where failure wasn’t an option.

Even bringing in Shaolin’s top masters to force the issue.

‘They want me to show my full strength.’

One thing was now certain.

Shaolin hadn’t gotten the answer it wanted during yesterday’s spar.

So now they were trying again—setting this up as a final test.

‘In a way, it’s an honor.’

Her very presence was affecting Shaolin enough to warrant the mobilization of masters.

‘They want my full power.’

“...Is just...”

Seolhwa slowly turned her gaze back to Doryang.

“...scratching a stone slab really going to satisfy you?”

“...What do you mean by that?”

“I’m asking if leaving a palm mark on a rock is really going to give you the answer you want.”

A faint smile curled her lips.

Doryang’s expression, in contrast, grew colder.

“Whatever Yu {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} Pyo Dojang might have said, know that I bear no ill will.”

“That may depend... on what it is you’re truly after.”

At her provocative response, a subtle surge of qi began to rise around Doryang.

He hadn’t drawn it out while facing Yu Pyo—he was underestimating her.

“How about this, then? Instead of the stone slab, why don’t we trade palms directly?”

Doryang’s brow twitched.

“You’re saying... you want to test strength with me?”

His mouth twisted despite himself.

Amusement flashed across his expression.

“Your confidence seems a bit excessive. I am far stronger than you think.”

“That’s exactly what I was going to say.”

“I have no desire to harm the Sword Emperor’s granddaughter. So, how about this instead?”

Doryang extended his hand and gestured toward someone.

It was Hyeon.

“Hyeon will be your opponent. His martial prowess ranks among the best in the temple—you won’t be disappointed.”

Seolhwa looked to Hyeon.

He’d already looked surprised when Doryang gestured at him, and now, catching Seolhwa’s eyes, he flinched and turned hastily to Doryang.

“M-Master! I already lost to Lady Namgoong in yesterday’s match!”

“Hm?”

“I’m not a worthy opponent for her. Wouldn’t she prefer to face someone stronger than me?”

He let out a forced, awkward laugh.

Seolhwa’s gaze cooled.

‘He knows I’ve surpassed him in realm.’

So even that couldn’t be hidden.

Well, of course—not from a Hwagyeong master. Even Namgoong Mucheon had seen it instantly.

But in this case, it worked in her favor. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

She nodded at Hyeon’s words.

“I’d rather face you, Master Doryang, than Master Hyeon. Don’t worry—I won’t be injured.”

“Overconfidence is the first step toward arrogance.”

“Even if I do get hurt, I promise I won’t hold Shaolin responsible. Can you make the same promise?”

“You’re... assuming I’ll be the one to get hurt?”

“Yes.”

Doryang let out an incredulous laugh.

Then, suddenly, his gaze shifted behind him.

Toward the direction where other monks had been watching.

His smile gradually faded.

Casting a quick glance at Seolhwa, he spoke with all traces of amusement gone.

“Fine. So be it.”

“And the promise?”

“I swear—no matter what happens, you will bear no responsibility.”

Seolhwa smiled and nodded.

The two moved toward the center of the training grounds.

Yu Pyo stepped between them.

“The method will be palm technique. A single palm strike. Whoever is pushed back farther from their original spot loses. No objections?”

A single palm exchange.

Though the technique was a palm strike, everyone knew.

This would be a clash of internal power.

Which was precisely why Doryang felt confident.

Internal strength was something accumulated over time.

And he had at least twenty years more experience than this impetuous noble child.

‘Foolish youth, blinded by arrogance.’

He would teach her the order of the martial world, and guide her to the proper path.

Such was the duty of a senior toward his distant junior.

FWOOOOOOOSH—

As soon as Yu Pyo stepped away, Doryang dropped into a horse stance and extended his right hand to prepare.

His solid lower body was so thick and immovable, it made Hyeon look like a reed.

‘Like a log.’

Seolhwa marveled briefly at his impressive thighs, then assumed her stance a beat later.

— Imugi.

[Mn.]

— Thinking of using Thousand-Catty Hammer.

[...You know how to use that?]