The doors of the Hall of Meditative Focus (Seonjeongjeon) opened.
As the three stepped inside, the scene that unfolded before them was starkly different from the two halls they had previously passed through.
A massive circular space.
The ceiling stretched so high it could not be seen, and the floor was smooth as if overlaid with polished bronze.
At the center of the hall stood a single Buddha statue. Its form resembled the Arhats from before, yet it was not entirely the same.
Unhwi turned his head to glance at Seol Horyeong and Seo Hyo.
The injuries they'd sustained in the earlier trials were significant.
They could still walk, but fighting again seemed impossible.
From Unhwi's experience, the atmosphere in this hall could only mean one thing.
A fight to the death—or at the very least, a duel.
With that, Unhwi slowly walked toward the center.
His steps were without hesitation. He walked right up to the statue and stopped squarely in front of it.
Up close, the Buddha was enormous.
Roughly seven cheok tall.
Comparable in size to Cheonpung, who was no doubt still sweating and suffering with Gwanghan somewhere.
But what truly stunned was the statue’s presence. Not only did it dominate the entire hall, its very form exuded pressure.
It was clearly made from steel—or perhaps meteorite iron—but the surface shimmered with a subtle, almost living tremor.
Truthfully, Unhwi had never seen anything like it.
It wasn’t a human, but it wasn’t quite a statue either.
Who could make such a thing? To do so would require not only knowledge that transcended human limits, but an understanding of the principles of heaven and earth—an enlightenment that encompassed both formation arrays and mystical arts.
The statue’s mouth suddenly moved.
"Final trial. Prove your martial arts."
It wasn’t unexpected.
The Hall of Dharma Clouds had tested Buddhist wisdom. The Vajra Hall had tested the heart. Naturally, the final trial would test the discipline of the body.
To be exact, the proof of martial skill.
Without a word, Unhwi drew the Heavenshaking Spiritblade from his side and laid the sheathed weapon on the floor. Then he rotated his wrists and neck to loosen up.
There wasn’t the slightest hint of tension.
The statue spoke again.
"You may not use internal energy or the qi of heaven and earth. Only the strength of the body."
The statue vanished in an instant.
No—it moved so fast it was imperceptible to the eye.
A fist grazed Unhwi’s right cheek. But Unhwi had already leaned back, dispersing the impact. It was as if he had anticipated it.
In the split second as his face twisted from the blow—
He twisted his body. The statue's leg swept through the space where he’d just been.
But it didn’t stop there. A hand followed, striking toward him.
Unhwi stepped back and reached out, grabbing the statue’s wrist. Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn novel~fire~net
The strength and weight packed into that limb were immense. Unhwi staggered back slightly, but the statue didn’t miss a beat.
It immediately kicked toward him, but Unhwi responded with a spin.
Pushing off the ground lightly, he twisted his body. The arm he had grasped twisted aside, and this time it was the statue that lost balance.
In the blink of an eye, their positions reversed. The statue exposed its back, and Unhwi landed behind it.
What followed was obvious.
Unhwi’s foot slammed into the statue’s back.
Its torso bent forward as it was forced into two staggering steps. It spun and swung a punch, but Unhwi deflected it with his right hand.
The sound of stone clashing with flesh.
Yet there was no pain on Unhwi’s face.
He stepped in, following the statue’s arm, and struck its chin upward with his left fist.
The statue stumbled back—but immediately launched another attack.
A kick, a knifehand, a fist, and an elbow.
Four attacks flew in near-perfect sync.
Unhwi twisted his body to dodge the kick. The knifehand grazed his shoulder. As the punch came flying in, he ducked low. Then, as the elbow descended, he raised his palm to intercept.
The moment their joints met, Unhwi redirected the force—not just to absorb it, but to repurpose it—spinning once more.
With the momentum of centrifugal force, Unhwi’s foot smashed into the side of the statue’s face.
The statue reeled back several steps and came to a stop. A spark of curiosity flickered in its eyes.
"...Fascinating. Your movements combine the essence of Great Vajra Fist and the Grand Displacement Body Technique. How is that possible?"
The Great Vajra Fist was a Shaolin martial art inspired by the guardians of the Vajra. It emphasized fists as solid as stone, impenetrable defense, and devastating strikes that shattered an opponent’s core.
The Grand Displacement Body Technique flowed like water—unpredictable, subtle, with the profound mastery of anticipation and the ability to shift positions just before an attack. Minimal movement, maximum effect—Shaolin’s supreme movement art.
Unhwi was neither a disciple of Shaolin nor a follower of the Buddhist path.
And yet, in this moment, his movements blended rigidity with fluidity, offense with defense, response with evasion—crossing the boundaries between extremes. It was an impossibility made real.
That’s why the statue was astonished.
"All streams return to the source. The essence of martial arts ultimately converges into one."
The statue launched forward again.
This time, even faster—its movements resembled a dancer’s rhythm. Dozens of attacks came in relentless waves.
Unhwi took in the statue’s every motion.
The arcs slicing through air, the directions of the incoming strikes, the weight behind each one, the orientation of its legs.
Everything visualized instantly in his mind.
The air itself burst with deafening cracks. Unhwi moved with otherworldly precision.
He leaned, dodged, spun, and kicked off the ground. His body flowed like water, slipping past each attack with barely a finger’s breadth to spare.
In the midst of that fierce exchange, the statue's palm thrust toward Unhwi’s chest.
He turned his body, letting the force glide past him. Then he used his shoulder to deflect the arm upward.
THUD! With a sharp sound, the statue’s arm was forced into the air. It kicked, but Unhwi had read the move.
He grabbed the statue’s ankle.
Yanking hard, he threw the statue off balance and slammed it to the ground.
The opposite leg tried to hook his own and trip him, but Unhwi’s foot was already gone from that spot.
He leapt high into the air, body twisting once more. And with all his strength, he brought his heel down toward the statue’s head.
The crash echoed like thunder. The stone floor beneath them cracked. The statue’s face caved in.
The dent was at least two chi deep.
Seol Horyeong and Seo Hyo stood slack-jawed.
What... what had they just witnessed?
No. That statue—crafted of solid metal—had moved in ways beyond belief. It had not used internal energy, that much was certain, yet its speed, strength, movements, and battle intuition surpassed their martial understanding by leagues.
That thing was... untouchable.
Even if they fought back-to-back with perfect coordination and heaven’s luck on their side, they might barely manage to restrain it.
Unhwi had done it alone.
As Unhwi turned and adjusted his robes, the two men felt it clearly—a “wall” that could not be scaled.
But then, both of their expressions froze.
The statue behind Unhwi was slowly rising.
Its face was deeply dented, but clearly it wasn’t over yet.
Unhwi turned back as well.
"You cannot defeat me with physical strength alone."
Unhwi responded with a cold tone.
"You've already fallen. Continuing further won't change the outcome."
Unhwi paused, then gave a slight nod—as if understanding what the statue truly wanted.
Slowly, he took his stance.
Right foot forward, left foot behind.
Left hand raised, right hand lowered. His body pulled taut like a bowstring. A stance wholly unlike anything from before.
There was wonder in the statue’s voice.
"The Temporal Fist... of the Bodhidharma himself."
The Yijinjing did not merely contain principles of movement.
It detailed training stages, and a handful of martial arts that one could perform while using the scripture—Temporal Fist was one of them.
This was what the statue had sought to confirm.
If Unhwi had obtained the Yijinjing, how deeply had he understood it?
This wasn’t just a test of combat ability—it was a test of how much he comprehended martial truth.
This time, Unhwi moved.
His motion bore no speed or power. And yet, it was filled with fundamental force—movement in sync with the flow of the universe itself.
He extended his fist.
The statue raised its arm to block, but just before contact, Unhwi’s fist shifted direction. It was no longer a strike. It was merely flow.
His fist brushed against the statue’s chest.
The back of Unhwi’s fist turned red. At that moment, a subtle vibration rippled through the statue’s body. But Unhwi didn’t stop. His motion continued—twisting, flipping, bending, and unfurling.
It was no longer combat. It was a dance. A dance aligned with the essence of the world.
The statue followed his movements. They mirrored each other as if reflected in a mirror.
One moved—the other followed.
To Seol Horyeong and Seo Hyo, it looked as if the two had become one.
The boundary dissolved. Only flow remained.
The statue began to break.
Unhwi’s fist struck its right arm—cracks burst through it, and it shattered.
Struck the torso—a hole opened.
The side—chunks of fragments flew off.
The shoulder—obliterated entirely.
He spun and struck the right thigh, then lastly the left instep.
As if prearranged, both came to a stop.
To be precise—only one could move.
The thoroughly broken statue slowly raised its head to look at Unhwi.
His left hand, shielded by the Indestructible Hand Guard, remained mostly intact.
But his right hand was drenched in blood. The bones across the back of his hand, all five fingers—shattered.
Breaking steel with bare flesh was impossible for an ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) ordinary man. But with martial mastery added in, it could be done.
Yet martial mastery alone wasn't enough.
Every phenomenon has its cost. Every feat demands a price.