Both side pulled back without a word. They knew the outcome of this battle rested entirely on our fight.
When two overwhelmingly powerful individuals clashed, numbers meant little.
At the center of the ruined compound, we faced each other.
Behind Tae Yul, the Imperial soldiers formed a silent guard and the main gate gaped open like a watchful maw.
Behind me, the rebels gathered close enough to be seen but far enough to be safe.
My banner snapped softly in the wind, the red cloth on my spear trailing like a tyrant’s pennant.
We walked inward together, neither hurrying nor dawdling. There was no hatred in the way we carried ourselves—only appetite for great fight.
Both of us smiled, the same simple curve that said, at last, an enemy that could pushed me to my limits. For a warrior, there are few things purer than the chance to measure oneself against another mountain.
"You look unusually clean for a martial artist," I commented.
His robe was spotless and pristine, while mine was torn and bloodied. The contrast like that of a noble and a beggar.
"I apologize if I don’t look dirty enough. I was raised to stay clean at all times. Old habits die hard, even on the battlefield."
Our words might have seemed trivial, but we were already preparing—measuring distance, gauging strength, and taking full account of our surroundings.
"That’s a surprise. I heard you lead a mercenary group, so I expected you to act more like a wandering rogue."
He shook his head and laughed softly. "Your eyes see only the surface, General Sun Wang. That same simplicity flows through your technique."
"I’ll take that as a compliment." I responded.
Tae Yul inched closer. "General Sun Wang, let this fight decide today who is truly the strongest."
I let out a short laugh and got closer too. "Do you really think the world is so small that the two of us could be its strongest? You’ve been swimming in a very shallow pond."
Even that taunting didn’t faze him.
He drew his sword at last.
"I have never known defeat, nor has any weapon ever drawn my blood. If defeating you will not crown me the strongest, then I shall continue—toppling every legendary warrior, until none can deny my claim."
What a battle maniac. In the end, this ends only when one of us is dead.
thud!
I planted the spear and declared.
"Very well. I’ll save you the trouble and give you a painful death. Tae Yul, you will be remembered as the fool who dared to challenge me!"
SWOOOSH!
He advanced first, and the crowd held its breath as he closed the distance between us. By their standards, he was very fast.
Though his speed was quicker than that of the samurai from the hotel, it was still a far cry from the teleporting woman.
My eyes followed him, and beyond his speed, his swordsmanship shone. His blade flowed like water—precise, with no wasted motion.
"Flowing River Strike." he uttered.
His weapon rippled through the air. When my spear met it to intercept, the blade slid along the shaft as if it had no shape at all then, before I could react, it aimed straight for my hand.
’Not good!’
I swung my spear outward with all my strength to deflect the blade—
CLANG!
The impact reverberated through the air. I planted my foot for balance and countered with a thrust. When he dodged, I swung wide, slicing through the air with enough force to make him jumped back.
Just as I went on the offensive, my momentum was halted when he struck the tip of my spear.
clang!
Logically, it should have shattered his sword—but instead, my spear veered to the left, twisted by the spin he had put into his strike.
"Torrent River Dance!" he thrust again, and in that instant, it looked like ten blades were coming at me from every direction.
"Moon Reflection!" I yelled, spinning my spear to widen my defense.
clang!
clang!
clang!
Our clash sent sparks flying, but even with my maneuver, one strike grazed me. I leapt back to regain my footing.
"Illusion River Dance!" he shouted, refusing to give me break.
Using a strange, fluid technique, he moved and struck in a continuous flow. Every motion connected seamlessly, leaving no pause, and in my eyes it was as if five opponents were attacking me at once.
"Moon Shattering Impact!"
I slammed my spear into the ground, sending stone projectiles flying in all directions. They were strong enough to tear through a normal human, but he leapt into the air effortlessly.
"Raging River Slash!" From above, he spun before bringing his blade down.
His momentum slammed me to my knees, but I held the spear horizontally with both hands, bracing against the strike.
After landing, he unleashed the same technique again, causing his strikes to multiply.
Kneeling, I was struck multiple times, and blood began to drip from my body.
However, none of them were really fatal. My muscles were thick and flexible enough that, with enough focus, I could seal the wounds.
When a gap opened I swept low at his legs. He read it cleanly and jumped up.
I drove the spear upward and slid my hands down the shaft, lengthening my reach in one motion.
The tip skimmed past him but his blade was already there, meeting the tip before my thrust hit full power.
His strikes lacked force, yet his timing was razor‑perfect; each parry landed so early it felt like he was watching my attack in slow motion.
We could not be more opposite.
"Will you continue to restrain yourself, General?" he asked, that infuriating smile still plastered on his face.
"What are you talking about? We’re just getting started," I sneered, letting the words drip with contempt.
He shook his head. "Though I cannot kill you outright, your body still clings to the last traces of the elixirs’ strength. If you don’t kill me soon, you’ll run out of energy."
Damn it. That’s exactly what I feared. However, I could not really do anything because all the techniques popping into my mind were a poor match against him.
If only there were a single technique that could tilt the battle in my favor, one capable of shattering both skill and timing... I paused, realizing my blunder.
Why did I assumed that I needed only one technique?
I was so deluded, believing that a single strike would decide the battle, that it had narrowed my thinking.
And this wasn’t new. Even back in the hotel against those assassins, my style relied on unleashing technique after technique, but without any true flow.
In contrast, Tae Yul’s attacks moved like water, a chain of seemingly weak strikes that flowed seamlessly from one pattern to the next — a perfect, relentless combo.
Damn it. How could I have forgotten?
This should have been obvious for someone like me, who had spent countless hours in arcades, beating a dozen ten-year-olds at a fighting game using just one coin.
Yet here I was, blinded by overwhelming power, failing to see it.
Suddenly, flashes of images appeared in my mind — a series of moves that only became visible once I opened myself to such possibilities.
’So this is the path I’ve been missing.’