Thousand-Catty Hammer.

A martial technique that channels internal energy into the lower body to drastically increase weight.

In martial arts, maintaining center balance is essential—almost a matter of life and death.

Thousand-Catty Hammer not only stabilizes an unsteady foundation, but also adds weight and impact to offensive movements when needed.

Despite the name, Thousand-Catty Hammer, the actual weight depends entirely on how much internal energy is poured into it—it could weigh a thousand catties, or ten thousand.

— Think I can fool the watching eyes?

[It won’t be easy.]

— So you’re saying it’s possible.

[You wicked thing.]

Truthfully, Seolhwa wasn’t confident she could defeat Doryang’s massive physique with pure physical strength.

But martial techniques changed the equation.

If she was going to endure a palm strike from a Super Peak master like Doryang, she’d need a little help from Imugi.

“Have you heard the saying, ‘All martial arts under Heaven come from Shaolin’?”

Doryang asked, adopting a solemn tone as he settled into his ready stance.

“I’ve been hearing it a lot lately,” Seolhwa replied dryly.

She hadn’t expected to hear it from a Shaolin monk’s own mouth.

“It is the truth. All martial arts under Heaven originate from Shaolin. The Namgoong Clan’s techniques are no exception.”

It was a subtle threat—her clan’s techniques wouldn’t be enough to defeat him.

By this point, Seolhwa had no intention of losing this match.

Whether in strength, in inner energy, or in words.

“Did you know?”

“Know what?”

“That during a time of chaos, generals from defeated enemy states, vagrants, and hunted thieves sought refuge within Shaolin.”

“...!”

“They passed on their martial arts to Shaolin, which then evolved into the current martial canon.”

A faintly sardonic smile tugged at Seolhwa’s lips.

“So the ‘All martial arts under Heaven come from Shaolin’ you take such pride in...”

“Silence!”

Doryang barked, cutting her off.

“Do you intend to insult the temple with some baseless rumor? Have you [N O V E L I G H T] forgotten where you stand—before the Main Hall of Shaolin?”

“Weren’t you the one who first disparaged my clan’s techniques, Master Monk?”

“I spoke only the truth!”

“Then what exactly was your intention in bringing up that grand phrase?”

Doryang’s eyebrow twitched.

KWA-A-A-AANG!

A surge of golden energy erupted from Doryang, roaring like an explosion.

It was on a completely different scale than what Hyeon had shown the day before.

“Very well. Since you fail to understand, I shall make you understand with my own hands. Etch today’s lesson into your bones.”

Seolhwa narrowed her eyes at the deluge of energy bursting from Doryang.

‘He’s close to the pinnacle of Super Peak.’

Not surprising, considering he was a First-Generation Disciple and the protégé of the Head of the Disciplinary Hall.

FWOOOOOSH—

Around Seolhwa, crimson energy began to swirl like a flame.

Unlike Doryang, she released her qi while standing still, as if standing amid a burning inferno.

Seeing that, Doryang’s expression briefly stiffened.

‘She’s also at Super Peak?’

He hadn’t heard anything about Seolhwa’s level, unlike Hyeon’s.

Her youthful appearance had made him assume she was just a child.

But Super Peak?

‘So that’s why the Abbot ordered me to duel her.’

Earlier, just as Doryang was about to decline Seolhwa’s challenge, he had received a voice transmission from Abbot Beopgong.

He had instructed Doryang to engage Namgoong Seolhwa directly.

If not for those words, Doryang would never have accepted.

‘Interesting.’

So she had something she was confident in after all.

‘Still...’

The phrase “All martial arts under Heaven come from Shaolin” existed for good reason.

Shaolin’s martial canon was a Diamond Body path—a school that encompassed all of the martial world.

‘Let me teach you what that truly means.’

FWOOOOOOOO—

Golden qi swirled rapidly into Doryang’s right hand.

As he stomped his right foot—

THUD—!

The entire training ground trembled.

“Haaaah!”

Massive force concentrated in his right palm.

The technique he had chosen was Great Diamond Palm—a move embodying the spirit of Shaolin's Diamond Body discipline.

FWAAASH—!

Seolhwa didn’t evade the incoming force. She faced it head-on.

It felt like a golden dragon was roaring down upon her, jaws wide to swallow her whole.

Shaolin martial arts were indeed strong.

With the oldest history in Murim, their strength could not be ignored.

Even Seolhwa had to acknowledge that the saying had some merit.

Shaolin had paved the foundation of the martial world as it existed today.

But—

“Even if a technique was created to defeat a tiger, that doesn’t mean it can never be surpassed by the tiger.”

FWOOOOSH—

Seolhwa’s qi surged into her right hand.

The storm that erupted lifted her robes and hair, crackling with thunderous energy.

“Perhaps everything began with Shaolin... but who’s to say where it will end?”

The whirlwind around her grew more intense, forming a tempest centered on her.

Doryang’s palm closed in.

Just as the golden dragon-like strike was about to devour her—

FWOOOOOOOOOO—

Seolhwa’s gaze shifted past Doryang.

To the rooftop of a distant pavilion where hidden observers were watching the duel.

“If you seek answers, you should’ve just asked directly. These childish games...”

The storm suddenly compressed—converging into her palm.

From that palm, she unleashed the full force of her clan’s signature palm technique, imbued with the will of the heavens:

Heavenly Wind Palm.

“...are no fun.”

KWA-AANG!

The two forces collided at last.

The resulting explosion sounded like thunder falling from the sky.

Some Shaolin disciples groaned and covered their ears.

But it wasn’t over.

KWA-KWA-KWA-KWA-KWAAANG—!!

Golden and crimson energies clashed furiously.

Neither force yielding an inch.

KWA-AH!

The gales were so violent it was nearly impossible to keep one’s eyes open.

It was impossible to tell who was winning, who was losing—it was a cataclysmic clash.

But for the ones standing at the center—

Seolhwa and Doryang—the situation was very different.

‘W-What...?!’

At the moment of impact, Doryang had been certain of his victory.

Seolhwa’s energy was nearly equal to his own—but if their inner power was even, his superior external body training would secure the win.

It should have.

And yet...

CRRK—CRRKRK—

Doryang looked down at his feet with disbelief.

The earth beneath him—his stance—was giving way.

His feet were sliding backward.

Had he misstepped?

Was his force lacking?

‘No. None of that.’

The ground behind him was caving in from the sheer force.

If he had stepped wrong, there would be no impact strong enough to cause that.

Meaning—

‘I’m... the one being pushed back?’

His thoughts stopped there.

Unlike him, Seolhwa wore a calm, unshaken expression, her energy flowing freely.

Her tranquility shattered his fighting spirit.

‘A... monster...’

So there were monsters in Murim after all.

“Master Monk.”

A chill grazed the back of Doryang’s neck.

Amid the violent collision of energies, Seolhwa’s voice pierced through softly.

“Don’t forget our promise.”

Those were the last words Doryang heard.

KWAANG—!!

The Shaolin disciples’ jaws dropped.

Yu Pyo’s mouth also hung open.

Doryang’s massive frame was sent flying.

He crashed straight into the stone monument behind him.

For a brief moment, time stood still.

Then—

RUMMMMBLE...

The stone slab quivered, cracked—

THUD, KRRRK, KWOOOONG—!!

And collapsed.

Shattered completely into rubble before everyone’s eyes.

From beneath the debris, Doryang’s fingers twitched.

Thanks to his years of refined external cultivation, he hadn’t died—only lost consciousness.

Seolhwa stared at the ruined monument, opening and closing her fist.

It had been so long since she exchanged palms with someone like that—her wrist ached slightly.

— Thanks, Imugi.

[Let’s hope this brings him to his senses.]

— Hopefully.

She didn’t dislike Doryang.

As one of Shaolin’s most promising talents, his confidence was understandable.

But still—

The more mature the grain, the lower it bows its head.

She could only hope this encounter shattered his prejudice.

— Lady Seolhwa.

“?”

She turned toward Yu Pyo.

He exhaled deeply, looking thoroughly refreshed.

— Pass.

He gave her a firm thumbs-up.

“!”

A dozen presences suddenly surged toward her.

Their hostility was palpable.

‘A counterattack?’

Seolhwa and Yu Pyo reacted in sync.

But something felt off.

No matter how much she'd just humiliated one of their seniors, it had been a proper duel.

Why would they react with battle-ready aggression?

It felt... anxious. Like they were afraid of something.

And then—

“Enough.”

A voice boomed from all directions, as if the heavens themselves had spoken.

Seolhwa. Yu Pyo. Even the Shaolin disciples charging her—all froze.

‘Sixfold Transmission Voice!’

A technique only possible for those who’d surpassed even the highest peaks of Hwagyeong.

Then came an overwhelming force, rushing closer.

It was Step Upon Air —walking through empty space.

A figure descended slowly from the sky.

With a single gesture, he straightened his billowing robes.

The moment his feet touched the ground, every Shaolin monk fell to their knees in a deep bow.

Even facing only his back, Seolhwa involuntarily swallowed hard.

This man was one of the Ten Masters Under Heaven.

A martial giant said to rival Namgoong Mucheon himself.

The Abbot of Shaolin—

Beopgong, the Thousand-Handed Buddha.