First Defeat
"Whew… A master really is a master, huh?"
In Yeon Hwi-tae's eyes, he could clearly see the area of airspace the opponent controlled—an invisible zone where not even the slightest gap was left exposed. He could feel the oppressive pressure that if he stepped inside, he would be struck down instantly.
Meanwhile, Gi Hyeok-do was equally surprised.
"Well, I'll be damned. This little brat can already perceive the zone I'm controlling? No matter what kind of techniques he uses, he's clearly a prodigy."
He had believed that his own disciple's talent was unmatched, but now standing before him was someone even more gifted.
Grateful as he was to the boy, his pride was stung just enough to provoke him further.
"Tsk tsk, kid. If you think you're gonna lose, just surrender now and go back to suckling your mom's milk. I get where your fighting style is coming from, sure—but with that third-rate martial art, what chance do you have against the Mount Great Hua Sect's techniques?"
Crack.
Even Yeon Hwi-tae, praised in his past life as a master of mental control, twitched at the brow from that jab.
He began to close the distance step by step. With no weapon, his only path was to force an ultra-close range fight.
"Fortunately, it's just a wooden sword without a blade—could be worse."
Thinking that, Yeon Hwi-tae slowly waited for an opening, finally reaching the edge of the controlled zone.
In a single fleeting moment, he simulated countless possible scenarios in his mind. He didn't have nearly enough information on the opponent's techniques or exact strength, but he did his best to bridge the gap using knowledge from his past life.
"If I take one more step with my right foot…"
The moment that foot landed, the wooden sword would target his thigh. Blocking would be a poor move; dodging would only put him on the defensive and lead to a loss.
"If I lunge and then immediately retreat with a backstep…"
But his opponent was a peak master. Someone like that would easily see through such a feint. Worse, it might open him up to a counterattack.
"Then there's only one way…"
To sacrifice flesh to strike bone—a common strategy for the weak to overcome the strong.
This wasn't a life-or-death duel, just a guided spar, but Yeon Hwi-tae's fighting instincts didn't care about that distinction.
He steadied his resolve, evolved his footwork into something more refined, and charged in quickly.
"So you're finally coming!"
As expected, Gi Hyeok-do smiled and brought his sword down. But even in the heat of it, Yeon Hwi-tae caught the subtle tremble at the tip of the blade.
Mount Hua's techniques were known for their unpredictability and variations. As an elder of the sect, Gi Hyeok-do mixed feints and real strikes to confuse the eye.
Normally, by the time one realized the truth, the blow would have already landed.
Yeon Hwi-tae focused on the trajectory of the sword, analyzing with heightened perception.
The brief moment stretched under the pressure of rapid cognition, as the wavering sword tip approached him.
"He's not holding back, even though I'm a kid."
That in itself showed respect—he was treating Yeon not as a child, but as a fellow martial artist.
Yeon Hwi-tae focused above all on his footwork, calculating intensely with every shifting step.
"Ah—damn!"
Was it due to his lack of experience fighting actual martial artists?
While trying desperately to distinguish between the real strike and the feint, he quickly realized that he had made a mistake.
Even though this was his first true martial duel, the very fact that he had correctly grasped and analyzed the concept of feints and genuine attacks was almost unbelievable by martial world standards.
His training, grounded in martial novels from his past life, his sensory instinct, and his mastery of mental visualization—all of it had finally borne fruit.
But he was still inexperienced.
He had mistaken the real strike for a feint, and now, with no apparent way to defend or avoid it in time, he faced a clean hit.
"Twisting my body or blocking would still be fatal. Dodging's out of the question… then—"
Within that single instant, his thoughts accelerated. And just before the sword could touch his body, Yeon Hwi-tae made a completely unexpected move.
"Oh ho? This kid keeps surprising me, huh?"
At that moment, Gi Hyeok-do, who had been preparing to land a decisive blow, couldn't help but inwardly admire Yeon Hwi-tae's resolve to keep coming at him.
"He's not only distinguishing real strikes from feints at his age, but he's already playing mind games? If he grows up like this, he might become an absolute monster."
All the more reason for Gi Hyeok-do to take the match seriously. A chance to spar with someone of his level wasn't something money could buy—it was an opportunity of fate.
"He'll suffer a loss, learn from it, and grow stronger… Huh?"
Just as he was about to press the attack after catching Yeon Hwi-tae's mistake and exploiting an opening, he was taken aback by the boy's unexpected move. Instead of defending or dodging, Yeon Hwi-tae chose a third option—he charged into the attack.
No, he didn't completely ignore it—he twisted his body just enough to reduce the impact of the blow.
Thwack!
"...!"
He took a clean hit to the shoulder, but by twisting his body, he diffused the force as best he could and pushed forward, gritting his teeth. Even though it was just a wooden sword, the pain on his small, young body was real. Yet Yeon Hwi-tae, eyes wide open, pushed through to close the gap.
Gi Hyeok-do, taken aback by the boy's ferocity, realized—
"He's using flesh to take the blow in order to strike at the bone?!"
He had finally seen through Yeon Hwi-tae's tactic.
"Too late. Now it's my range!"
While Gi Hyeok-do was momentarily flustered, Yeon Hwi-tae had closed the distance—now within arm's reach. That meant it was his turn to counterattack.
"But you're still too green for that, brat!"
But Gi Hyeok-do wasn't so easily outdone. Cold weapons like swords lose effectiveness at close quarters—but only in the hands of average fighters. A master like Gi Hyeok-do had ways to adapt.
With fluid precision, he pulled the sword back and shifted his grip using only wrist strength, rotating it smoothly in his hand.
In a blink, the wooden sword reversed in his grip, turning into a backhand hold—an elegant and deadly maneuver.
Before Yeon Hwi-tae could launch a counter, the reversed grip was already in motion, driving the wooden sword down toward his exposed side.
"Tsk tsk. I admire your spirit, kid, but life doesn't always reward effort with results."
He had been impressed by the boy's mental fortitude and quick judgment, rare for someone so young. But this strike would end it. Even if Yeon Hwi-tae chose to push through and counter, it wouldn't matter—Gi Hyeok-do could take a hit or two, while Yeon Hwi-tae would crumble from this blow.
And then—something unexpected happened.
Yeon Hwi-tae did not underestimate the strike aimed at his side. With razor precision, his arm brushed the sword just enough to divert its path, forcibly bending its trajectory away.
The blow, already weakened due to the close distance, lost further momentum thanks to Yeon's subtle redirection—making it possible to deflect without taking serious damage.
But surprisingly, Gi Hyeok-do didn't seem overly shocked. He had suspected the boy might pull something like this.
Still, it didn't matter—if this attack failed, the next one would follow immediately.
And then—
"...!"
Even the great Gi Hyeok-do couldn't hide his surprise at what happened next. Before he could even pull his wooden sword back, Yeon Hwi-tae grabbed his swinging right arm with both hands. In the same instant, still holding the arm, Yeon leapt into the air.
"What kind of bizarre move is this now?"
The strange, unfamiliar movement—something Gi Hyeok-do had never seen or heard of—threw him off yet again. Taking advantage of that moment of hesitation, Yeon wrapped his body around Gi Hyeok-do's arm like he was flipping through the air. His legs locked over Gi Hyeok-do's chest, and he wedged the joint of the arm between his thighs.
Only then did Gi Hyeok-do sense real danger and instinctively tried to pull his arm free—
—or he tried to.
Instead, what greeted him was an intense, searing pain shooting through his arm joint.
"Gaaaaaaah!"
Flying Armbar.
It was a jiu-jitsu technique—one of the martial arts Yeon Hwi-tae had trained in. A high-difficulty move where the practitioner leaps and locks an armbar mid-air. For the first time in his life, Gi Hyeok-do experienced a full-on joint lock.
"Yes! I got him!"
Yeon was sure of it. Despite being on the defensive for most of the match, this could be his comeback win. Even if Gi Hyeok-do was a martial master, once locked in a proper joint lock, escape should be nearly impossible.
Unfortunately, Yeon was only half-right.
Gi Hyeok-do, though in extreme pain, didn't surrender. He chose a different path.
Whoosh—
"Huh?!"
What Yeon had overlooked was the fact that his body was still young and lacked the raw strength necessary to fully execute a joint lock on a seasoned martial artist. He had also underestimated the physical fortitude and inner energy of a peak-level master like Gi Hyeok-do.
Even the weakest joints could be reinforced by inner energy. No matter how well-trained Yeon was, he simply lacked the power to fully incapacitate someone of Gi Hyeok-do's level. In addition, Gi Hyeok-do's mental fortitude was incredible—he endured the pain, and with a shout, swung his arm downward.
Crash!
Luckily, he held back just enough that Yeon's head didn't slam into the floor. But the sheer impact on his back was enough to knock him out cold.
For the first time since his reincarnation into the martial world—Yeon Hwi-tae had tasted defeat.
"Ugh… Ngh, my back…"
Yeon groaned as he regained consciousness. Looking around, he realized he was lying in his own room. A hollow feeling of disappointment swept through him.
"Sigh… I lost."
He had lost.
The odds had been stacked against him from the beginning, and he'd nearly turned the tables at the end. But a loss was still a loss. It stung all the more because it had only been his second formal duel in this life.
"Still… I did gain something from it."
"Victory and defeat are commonplace in a warrior's life."
A saying as old as the martial world itself. There was frustration, yes—but no despair. He still had something to do.
"First, I need to review the match…"
Click.
Just as he was about to reflect on the fight before the memory faded, someone opened the door and entered.