Chapter 41. The Loophole in Discipline (1)
Yeon Hojeong's body faltered.
The hand that had unleashed the Yeonhwan Palm turned crimson and swelled. In that fleeting moment, Yeon Wi neutralized the attack with his own palm.
Whoosh!
A faint chill emanated from Yeon Wi's outstretched hand.
‘Reverse Dragon Palm!’
It was one of the Yeon Family’s ultimate martial arts. Each strike carried immense power, but its true supremacy lay in counterattacks—a palm technique unrivaled in deflecting and retaliating.
Yet Yeon Wi was the more astonished one.
“The Yeonhwan Biyeon Palm?”
“Yes.”
Crack!
Before the word fully left his lips, Yeon Hojeong charged again.
Anticipating a frontal assault, Yeon Wi was caught off guard as his son abruptly dropped his stance and swung the halberd. Despite the close quarters, the blade swept unerringly toward his ankles—a testament to the weapon’s lethal precision even at such range.
Yeon Wi’s sword scraped against the training hall floor.
Screech! Clang!
The grinding blade deflected the halberd, but the rebounding shaft arced seamlessly toward Yeon Wi’s flank. Faster than a slash, it struck—
Clang!
Perfect.
Yeon Hojeong marveled. His father’s martial arts had achieved flawless unity of offense and defense.
Clang! Crash! Crack!
Halberd sweeps, kicks, and punches—all were repelled. Not a single blow landed.
‘To think he’s honed his skills to this level!’
This wasn’t merely about internal energy or sword strength. Yeon Wi’s martial dao itself approached perfection—no excess, no deficiency. A complete system.
‘Incredible.’
During the Dark Age, Yeon Hojeong’s prowess had far outstripped his father’s. Yet even then, he couldn’t replicate this balance of attack and defense. Where Yeon Hojeong specialized in amplifying strengths, Yeon Wi’s art was an impenetrable fortress—orthodoxy perfected.
‘Good.’
The notion of this being their first spar evaporated. Facing a master who seldom ventured into the martial world, Yeon Hojeong’s competitive fire burned brighter than ever.
Crack! Bang! Whoosh!
His attacks intensified. The heavy halberd accelerated, its spear techniques targeting every inch of Yeon Wi’s body in an unbroken cascade.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Each strike met an immovable defense.
But Yeon Hojeong pressed on, trusting his father’s inviolability.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Speed amplified destructive force, which in turn fueled fluidity of movement. A dangerous cycle.
A glint flashed in Yeon Wi’s eyes.
‘Remarkable.’
His son’s martial arts astounded him—fierce and untamed, yet balanced. Though rooted in Byeokra Jin-Gyeol’s stabilizing principles, they resembled a storm barely contained.
Clang!
A short sword strike met the halberd’s shaft.
This wasn’t mere defense. Yeon Hojeong absorbed his father’s momentum, weaving it into his own counterstrike—an aggressive style where every block became an attack, every attack a lethal gamble.
‘And yet...’
Crack! Crack! Crack!
The halberd wasn’t his only tool. Kicks followed spear thrusts; palms replaced evaded fists. A seamless integration of basic techniques:
Yeonga Sip-Sam Kwon (Thirteen Fists).
Yeonhwan Biyeon Palm (Flowing Petal Palm).
Gogangak (Sky Piercing Kick).
Chupungbo (Autumn Wind Step).
Foundational forms, elevated to lethal efficiency.
‘Could even I achieve this?’ Yeon Wi wondered.
The adage proved true—a master needs no special tools. His son was dismantling the head of the Seven Great Families using martial basics as building blocks.
Clang!
A powerful sword strike forced Yeon Hojeong back.
‘Enough.’
As Yeon Wi opened his mouth to speak—
Whoooosh!
His son closed the distance instantly, halberd descending like an executioner’s axe!
‘Impossible!’
The strike carried a repelling force meant to stagger opponents. Yet here was Yeon Hojeong, exploiting it to accelerate!
CLAAAAANG!!!
The collision reverberated beyond the training grounds. Yeon Wi’s sword trembled.
Huff!
Yeon Hojeong dropped low, unleashing a relentless chain attack.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Yeon Wi defended flawlessly, finally understanding.
‘So this is why he endured such grueling training.’
Stamina. Each earth-shattering strike demanded not just skill, but a body forged through extremes. This was Yeon Hojeong’s declaration:
This is who I am. Uncompromising offense. No concessions.
BOOM!!!
Yeon Wi’s sword erupted like thunder, its blade tracing lightning.
KWAANG!!!
“Ugh!”
Yeon Hojeong skidded to the arena’s edge, hands stinging.
“Enough.”
Sheathing his sword, Yeon Wi stepped out of the training area.
‘Almost... I nearly saw it.’
Disappointment lingered. In pushing against his father’s ironclad defense, Yeon Hojeong had glimpsed the key to summoning the White Tiger—the war god’s fury that could elevate his martial arts beyond current limits. But without life-or-death stakes, it remained out of reach.
He studied his father, awed. ‘To force out a hint of the White Tiger in mere sparring...’
Thud.
The sword met its rack.
“Your thoughts?”
“Hm?”
“On this old man’s martial arts.”
Yeon Hojeong’s eyes shone. “Near perfection. Room to grow stronger, but no weaknesses. You pursue the middle path—unbiased between attack, defense, evasion, or counter.”
Yeon Wi stared. “You discerned this?”
“How could I not? Most martial artists lean on specialties. You have none—your art encompasses all phenomena.”
Genuine surprise flickered across Yeon Wi’s face. “Truly, your insight surpasses all who came before.”
A sigh escaped him. “I’d hoped you’d walk my path.”
“Half a year ago, after the ancestral rites, you changed. As family head, I approved. But now...” Regret tinged his voice. “Now I see your ambition lies beyond this clan.”
Yeon Hojeong stiffened.
“You’ve no desire to lead the Yeon Family. Your gaze is fixed on the wider world.”
“...”
“I tested you today,” Yeon Wi continued, gazing at cloudless skies. “To see if you possessed the mindset of a successor. Instead, I found a dragon confined by no mere clan.”
He turned away. “Spar with me often, son. Your martial arts... they’re splendid.”
As Yeon Wi departed, Yeon Hojeong called out:
“Father.”
The patriarch paused.
“My heart remains here. Should the world brand me a demon to protect our family, I’ll become one.”
“Nonsense.” Yeon Wi didn’t look back. “If the world dares name you demon, I’ll lay that very world beneath my blade.”
He vanished into the manor.
“Rest now.”
