Chapter 194: Sword Immortal
The grand training hall of the Wudang Sect suited the word vast perfectly.
As one of the leading sects representing the Orthodox Faction alongside Shaolin, it needed to be this large to accommodate the countless martial artists within.
At its center, Jin Seong-un stood opposite the Wudang Sect Leader, the Sword Immortal of Wudang, and briefly surveyed his surroundings.
It seed as though every Taoist of the Wudang Sect had co out to watch—from the old Taoists with faces full of wrinkles to the younger prodigies like Baek Sang and Baek Seol.
Though the depth of their cultivation and the weight of their years all differed, they shared one thing in common.
Clear eyes. The serene, pure light in them seed to testify that they all walked the sa Dao (道) side by side.
‘So this is the Nine Sects, One Gang.’
It was impressive to witness firsthand the power of the legendary Orthodox Sects that he had only ever heard about.
And at the very pinnacle of all those Taoists stood a martial artist.
The Sword Immortal of Wudang, Hyeon-sang, lightly gripped Songmun Ancient Sword (松紋古劍)—the sect’s treasured blade—and took his stance.
The atmosphere within the hall instantly changed.
The countless martial artists gathered turned silent, not even daring to breathe, as all eyes fixed on the stage.
The younger Taoists, who had been whispering rumors, doubts, and admiration about the Guest Dragon, had long since fallen silent at Senior Brother Baek Sang’s stern command.
Jin Seong-un drew his sword.
Shrrng—
The silence was so deep that the quiet tallic ring of his blade echoed faintly across the vast space.
The Sword Immortal looked at Jin Seong-un and gave a faint smile.
“The first will be the Taiji Sword.”
He even told him which sword art he would use first. Jin Seong-un simply nodded lightly and took his stance.
Compared to the Songmun Ancient Sword, his plain iron sword looked crude and ordinary as he raised it to a high guard.
Suddenly, the Sword Immortal advanced with slow, unhurried steps, closing the distance between them.
Because he had revealed his sword art beforehand, Jin Seong-un could calmly observe the man’s feet rather than his blade.
The Wudang Sect’s unique, cloud-like flowing footwork left a strong impression.
He wondered if this too was the Sword Immortal’s way of showing kindness.
Soon, they were within striking distance.
The Sword Immortal thrust lightly.
It was a familiar strike. Jin Seong-un had seen Baek Sang, Baek Seol, Oh Jeong-san, and Hyeon-un perform the Taiji Sword Art countless tis.
Cheng—!
He blocked the honest strike with an equally honest swing.
Blades clashed, and a clear tallic ring spread through the hall.
Both felt the lingering energy from each other’s sword and stepped back simultaneously.
The simplicity of the Wudang Sect Leader’s swordplay surprised both Jin Seong-un and the watching Taoists.
But the Sword Immortal, smiling benevolently as though enjoying the mont, spoke again.
“Good. The next will be the Taechung Sword.”
Taechung Sword Art (太淸劍法)—the higher-level sword technique learned after mastering the Taiji Sword.
When Jin Seong-un readied himself, the Sword Immortal dashed forward.
Unlike before, his steps were bold and dominant, closing the gap in an instant.
Jin Seong-un did not miss a single movent.
His steps flowed like a dance, yet behind him lood an imnse, blue wave of pressure.
Jin Seong-un raised his energy further and swung his sword to et it.
Kang—!
A heavy tallic sound resounded.
This ti, Jin Seong-un felt strong resistance travel up his wrist, forcing him two steps back.
Yet, he also felt sothing strange—though the powerful strike pushed him back, his balance oddly tilted forward.
It was the simultaneous harmony of pushing and pulling forces—each opposing the other perfectly.
‘Taiji…’
He was astonished that two contrary forces could exist at once within a single point.
Even after only two exchanges, he could feel the Wudang Sect’s true philosophy of Taiji.
Of course, he couldn’t afford to lose balance before so many onlookers, so he held his ground. There was no trick—just solid footing and pure bodily strength.
The Taoists, including Baek Un-geom Hyeon-un, couldn’t help but exclaim in admiration—not at their Sect Leader’s skill, but at Jin Seong-un, who had managed to withstand the Taechung Sword with only two steps back.
The Sword Immortal was not rely a skilled master or a Sect Leader.
He was one of the true pinnacles of the current martial world.
For a young martial artist barely in his twenties to withstand his sword was enough to stir the entire jianghu.
The competitive spirit and wariness the younger Taoists had felt toward Jin Seong-un had long since turned into astonishnt and admiration.
“It will be the last.”
The Sword Immortal once again took his stance.
Though he smiled softly and simply pointed the tip of his sword toward Jin Seong-un, his aura had completely changed.
“……”
Jin Seong-un felt that gentle smile was ominous.
A white energy began to envelop the Songmun Ancient Sword.
At that sight, Hyeon-un’s eyes widened in alarm.
The Sword Immortal, however, calmly continued what he was doing.
Black energy then wrapped around the white, the two intertwining until they ford the perfect symbol of Taiji.
The opposing forces didn’t clash—they harmonized.
Jin Seong-un instinctively realized—this ti, it was truly different.
Even those far less perceptive than him could sense it. The Sword Immortal’s aura was unlike before.
Then, the master spoke, his tone calm and steady.
“The Taiji Wisdom Sword.”
Even Jin Seong-un, who had little interest in martial history, had heard that na before.
It was one of the most renowned sword arts in the world.
It was the Wudang Sect’s ultimate technique.
As Jin Seong-un tensed, the Sword Immortal grinned and leisurely leapt forward, swinging his blade.
Black and white sword qi entwined around the blade, tracing a perfect Taiji symbol through the air as it fell.
Jin Seong-un was struck by a bewildering sensation he had never experienced before.
He couldn’t tell if the sword was coming toward him—or if he was moving toward the sword.
It defied comprehension, but his body unmistakably felt that the space between them was vanishing.
As he stared blankly, he suddenly heard the urgent shouts of Hyeon-un and several others, snapping him back to his senses.
He reacted slightly slower than usual, swinging his sword upward.
With a roaring whoosh, blazing crimson flas erupted along his blade.
A glint of astonishnt flashed across the Sword Immortal’s eyes.
And thus, the sword strike of the man called the Sword Immortal t head-on with the strike of the only true Sword Immortal of past and present.
.
.
.
Taiji Wisdom Sword.
Jin Seong-un thought he would never forget that na for the rest of his life.
The mont their swords clashed, everything in the world vanished.
Only his sword and himself remained.
The descending blade both pushed his body away and pulled it toward itself.
Even knowing that, he couldn’t decide how to react.
Soft yet sharp, heavy yet crude—contradictory forces coexisted in one sword.
It was the very definition of profound.
After a brief hesitation, Jin Seong-un gave up on analyzing and simply pushed the Fire Dragon Escape Sword to its limits.
His intent was to cut through all—pushing and pulling, light and heavy, soft and crude—with one strike.
The instant the two blades collided, Jin Seong-un jolted awake from sleep.
“……”
He blinked in confusion, looking around.
He was lying alone in a room.
Had the duel with the Sword Immortal been just a dream?
But the deep pain coursing through his entire body reminded him it had been real.
He had fainted.
Jin Seong-un realized anew that facing a master who had reached the Huajing Realm was still far beyond him—just as he had felt when he fought Jin Baek-cheon of the Ice Palace back in Yichang.
Just then, the door opened, and the Sword Immortal entered.
Upon seeing Jin Seong-un awake, he smiled gently, his signature kind expression on his lips.
“I heard from Hyeon-un before—you were taught sword arts from the Quanzhen Sect, weren’t you?”
“…Yes, that’s right.”
“There were several branches within the Quanzhen Sect. Do you happen to know which lineage, or your master’s na?”
Jin Seong-un shook his head.
He couldn’t very well say, Yes, Sword Immortal Lü Dongbin.
Then, to his surprise, the Sword Immortal spoke.
“The sword technique seed to belong to the lineage of the Sword Immortal. Of course, I’ve never seen his sword directly myself, so I cannot be certain. And since countless ages have passed since the Quanzhen Sect disappeared, it’s possible the art may have changed in its transmission. It’s only speculation, so take it lightly.”
Profound and philosophical discussions followed—about the genealogies and branches of Taoist sects, the heritage of their martial ways.
What surprised Jin Seong-un most was the Sword Immortal’s conjecture that Jin’s sword technique might have been one newly created by the Sword Immortal, one of the Eight Immortals of Daoism, who had accepted the martial wisdom of the Fire Dragon True Man.
Though Jin had never heard such words from the Sword Immortal himself, the fact that his technique’s na was Fire Dragon Escape Sword made the possibility believable.
Once again, Jin Seong-un felt that the Wudang Sword Immortal was not only a master of martial arts but also a Taoist scholar of profound cultivation.
As the explanation ca to an end, Jin asked,
“What will happen to the children?”
The condition the Sword Immortal had proposed was that Jin withstand three of his strikes. But Jin had fainted after the last exchange.
The Sword Immortal smiled gently.
“Of course, you’ll be taking them with you, won’t you, Seong-un?”
“Yes, understood.”
Jin replied calmly. A promise was a promise; there was nothing else to say.
At that, the Sword Immortal widened his eyes in amusent.
“I was joking. How could you so easily agree to take that many children?”
“I run an inn. I have more than enough rooms and food. And as you said, since they were children I saved, if I must take responsibility, then I should.”
The Sword Immortal stared intently at Jin Seong-un.
Even a puppy raised in the backyard could have noticed how pleased the Sword Immortal was at that mont.
Just as Jin awkwardly cleared his throat, the Sword Immortal spoke in a quiet tone.
“Thanks to you, the Songmun Ancient Sword, the Wudang Sect’s treasure passed down through generations, has been cracked. I’ll have to ask the Falling Fla Manor to repair it.”
“I’m sorry…”
“I’m not blaming you. We both left unhealable marks on each other—that ans you successfully received my final strike.”
Was that so?
Jin wondered for a mont but saw no reason to argue further, especially since it ant he could care for the children.
“So, did you see anything in that last strike?”
“Yes. It felt as though countless opposing forces were layered together.”
“Haha, astonishing. You saw correctly. The Taiji Wisdom Sword doesn’t rely contain several opposing principles—it piles every essence of the world upon a single blade. And how did you respond?”
“I intended to cut through the flow.”
Silence fell.
The Wudang Sword Immortal, who had smiled so serenely until now, suddenly looked grave.
“The flow? You perceived it that far?”
“Yes, well…”
Jin wondered if he had made a mistake.
It might indeed be rude to speak so freely of another sect’s secret technique, especially its ultimate one.
The Sword Immortal then continued,
“Except for Hyeon-un, there’s no one in the Wudang Sect who can perceive that flow. No—perhaps only a handful in the entire martial world. So how did you intend to cut it?”
“I’m not sure. I just thought of cutting it and moved accordingly.”
The Sword Immortal replayed Jin Seong-un’s last motion, his eyes, his deanor, and the intent he had just described.
Recalling it all together, he realized Jin had nearly succeeded in slicing through sothing at that last mont.
‘The Taiji Wisdom Sword… could it be broken through?’
From his expression, this audacious genius had yet to find the complete solution.
But given ti, and with the right chance, he might truly grasp its key soday.
A mix of awe and unease filled the Sword Immortal as he finally spoke.
“Now I understand.”
Why Hyeon-un had so persistently spoken of Jin Seong-un.
Why he had said that if they didn’t call the boy to Wudang soon, they would regret it bitterly later.
After nodding for a while, the Sword Immortal rose to his feet. Jin tried to stand as well, but the elder gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s fine. Rest.”
The Sword Immortal smiled kindly.
In any case, the purpose behind the challenge he had set—the duel that wasn’t quite a duel before all eyes in the grand training hall—had been fully achieved.
First, to show the children of the Wudang Sect how wide the world truly was.
Second, to let a promising young martial artist of the world witness the depth of Wudang’s sword.
Of course, he had never imagined that young man would step so close to unraveling it.
“Sect Leader.”
As the Sword Immortal turned to leave, Jin called after him, his voice hesitant as if after much thought.
When the elder looked back, Jin continued,
“Ahem… if it’s not too much to ask, may I challenge you again soday?”
The Sword Immortal fell into deep contemplation.
Under normal circumstances, he would have gladly agreed.
But the thought that the Taiji Wisdom Sword might be broken held his tongue still.
As he hesitated, Jin added,
“I’d like to face it again when I’m fully healed, without any internal injuries.”
“Huh?”
“Pardon?”
“Injuries?”
The Sword Immortal blinked, and Jin nodded.
“Yes, it happened while fighting at the Baek Li Clan.”
It was, in truth, the aftereffect of the Blood-Demon Art.
The Sword Immortal looked half-stunned.
“Then you weren’t in full condition?”
“Not by much, but yes—it was tougher than usual.”
“Guest Dragon—no, Seong-un.”
“Yes?”
“When your body is fully healed, co find
again. There’s sothing very important I must tell you.”
Jin looked puzzled.
But one could hardly refuse an elder’s summons, especially after requesting another match.
“Yes, I’ll do that.”
“Good. You must co. Absolutely.”
The Sword Immortal smiled kindly once more, then left the room.
As soon as he stepped outside, he bowed his head, pressing his forehead with one hand.
Sensing with his qi that no one was nearby, the corners of his mouth lifted in a wide grin.
Laughter slipped out. Every leader of every faction shared the sa desire—the desire for people.
Even sects of ascetics like Shaolin or Wudang were no exception.
He hadn’t just found a gem among stones—it felt like he had discovered an entire golden mountain.
The Sword Immortal felt joy, exhilaration, anxiety, urgency, and excitent all in the span of monts before exhaling deeply.
And just like that, his face returned to serene calm. Truly, a Taoist was a Taoist.
Historically, the greatest Taoist swordsn of each era were called Sword Immortals.
But in the current generation, there was no true Sword Immortal—only a few Sect Leaders whose skills ca close.
Thus, Hyeon-sang was not called simply Sword Immortal, but rather Wudang Sword Immortal.
Yet, in this mont, Hyeon-sang was certain.
“In future generations, the Sword Immortal (劍仙) shall be born.”
Though he was well past sixty, seeing a new era—an era radiant with light—filled Hyeon-sang’s heart with joy and anticipation.
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