Back when I was still a Jomsoi, I thought martial artists in the Jianghu only fought one-on-one in fair duels. I believed charging in with a group and brawling in chaos was the kind of thing only undisciplined rabble who hadn’t properly trained in martial arts would do.

But once I actually entered the Jianghu, I saw not only the Black Path, but even the Righteous and Demon Sects mixing every scheme and trick they could just to win. Group battles were common.

The kind of manly martial artist I had imagined was surprisingly rare.

And those few experts who pretended to be lofty and wandered around without backing often died in vain, outnumbered.

I always hated that.

A fight is best when it’s one-on-one.

That’s the cleanest, most decisive, primal, and fundamental form of combat.

When everyone left the main hall in a group and headed to a more open space, Nam Yeon-pung restricted spectators to only the officers. At his command, everyone who had been lingering around the area cleared out immediately.

Nam Garak, standing in the open area with arms crossed, asked me,

“Sect Leader, what shall it be?”

I replied like I was ordering bar snacks at a tavern.

“Anything.”

“Choose.”

Crossing my arms like Nam Garak, I shot back,

“You choose. I’ve learned all sorts of random things. Go with what you’re confident in.”

Nam Garak looked like he was debating, so I helped him decide.

“Looking at your face, I suddenly feel like beating the shit out of you. As the leader of the Namyeonghui, I bet you’ve never been hit before, have you? Bare hands will be better than weapons for now. I think even your subordinates will enjoy watching me smack that annoying face of yours. What do you say?”

Nam Garak let out a hollow laugh, his expression full of disbelief.

“You crazy bastard. You’re not sane.”

“If you’re scared, use a weapon. If you’ve got confidence, come at me barehanded.”

While Nam Garak hesitated, I threw Heukmyoah from my waist down to the ground. Nam Garak unfolded his arms and silently approached me.

We were similar in height.

As Nam Garak closed the distance, he asked,

“Ready to get your ass kicked?”

I gave a faint smile, and Nam Garak thrust his fist at me.

Whoosh!

I reached to grab his wrist with the Golden Silk Technique, but he pulled his hand back and swept a low kick with his left foot, as if scraping the floor.

I dodged the low sweep by stepping back a single pace.

Nam Garak followed up with a palm strike aimed at my face.

To gauge the force behind his attack, I steadied my stance with internal energy and struck back with my fist.

Thunk—his shoulder was pushed back from the impact, then both his palms came at me in a double strike.

In that brief instant, I saw through the feint and recognized it as a false move, so I pushed off the ground and widened the distance by three jang (roughly 9 meters), locking eyes with him.

Only now did Nam Garak's expression turn serious.

If I had overwhelmed him from the start by brute force, everyone might have been displeased. But this was different.

This wasn’t about recruiting Nam Garak as a subordinate—it was about gaining the entire Namyeonghui. I intended to fight him properly.

A thought struck me.

If I didn’t give it my all, Nam Garak might pick up on it and feel insulted later. So I dropped the idea of going easy on him and fixed my gaze.

In a flash, I summoned the power of the Fighting Rooster and wrapped both hands with the energy of the Flame Realm. The observing officers finally sensed that something was off and murmured.

“Huh?”

“Hmm.”

My whole body grew hot from the aura of the Fighting Rooster, and I warned Nam Garak.

“Lord Nam, be careful.”

I stomped the ground and instantly closed the gap, thrusting both palms toward him.

Nam Garak’s eyes widened in an instant, and he responded with a double palm strike of his own.

I wrapped my hands with the Flaming Great Handprint.

BOOOOM!

Nam Garak’s body was blown back like a corpse lying flat. I simultaneously leapt into the air, raised my right hand, and, gathering the scent of flame, prepared to slice him in half without a sword.

As I swung my hand down in a chopping motion, a crimson blade fell on Nam Garak’s head just as he sprang up.

His face twisted in agony, and he crossed his arms to form a defensive barrier with palm energy.

In that moment, a thunderous boom like a massive drum echoed as Nam Garak’s body flew another three jang (9 meters). He tumbled across the ground, tearing his robes to shreds before springing to his feet.

His expression had completely transformed into that of a beast. But to my eyes, he just looked like an ill-tempered tavern cat.

‘That’s a good face.’

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

I intended to overpower him with all I had and then deal with the aftermath. Without giving him a chance to recover, I closed the distance again, swept my hand down with the Flaming Scent Chop, struck with the Wooden Rooster’s fist, mixed in kicks, the Flaming Great Handprint, footwork, and palm techniques—relentlessly unleashing attacks on Nam Garak.

Each time he blocked an attack, Nam Garak was forced back, his whole face trembling, leaping around like a startled cat, yet stubbornly maintaining his fighting spirit. Meanwhile, I used my left palm to unleash the Absorption Technique, and as Nam Garak was pulled in, I poured a torrent of Fighting Rooster Palm strikes onto his entire body.

Nam Garak, dragged in with his chin raised, responded with double palms against the onslaught.

BOOOOOOM!

As soon as he blocked the blow, he spat out a mouthful of blood and rolled across the ground several times before crashing to a stop. If I had only used Flaming energy, the two of us might’ve looked more balanced to the bystanders, but the Fighting Rooster was different.

Spitting blood or rolling from the impact each time he countered was completely normal.

Because my mastery of the Fighting Rooster technique was beyond Nam Garak’s level from the start.

To jolt his senses, I sprang into the air and stomped on his face.

Whack!

Nam Garak barely rolled away to avoid it and sprang up, using the rebound from slapping the ground with his right hand. While I was still airborne, I calculated his reaction speed and launched a mid-air double kick at an angle.

Thud!

The reason I used such an odd motion was to give him time to react.

Nam Garak crossed his arms to block the kick, then frowned and stumbled back. I moved swiftly to conceal my form, whipped my right arm like a lash, and sliced at Nam Garak’s neck with my hand like a sword.

He must’ve seen an opening—he blocked my arm with his left hand and punched with his right.

I forcibly redirected his punch by injecting internal energy, then grabbed his collar with my right hand and yanked his wrist with my left, flinging him into the air.

FWOOSH!

Nam Garak spun like a scarecrow through the sky.

While he was airborne, I kicked off the ground and raced to the spot where he would land.

Nam Garak let out a roar mid-air.

“Draw your sword!”

Having declared war, he drew his blade mid-flight and swung wildly to buy time.

When he finally landed safely, his whole body was trembling. His voice quivered as he pointed the shaking sword at me.

“Sect Leader, bring your sword.”

Nam Garak was breathing heavily. His eyes were bloodshot, his face bright red. More than any emotion, pride was all that remained within him.

“I said bring your sword!”

Seeing Nam Garak enraged, I grinned. Intending to give him a moment of rest, I answered leisurely,

“Sure.”

I stretched out my left hand and used the Absorption Technique to summon Heukmyoah from afar. It jolted slightly, then suddenly shot toward me like it had been caught in a gust of wind.

Snap!

Without a word, I unsheathed Heukmyoah and injected it with Flaming energy. The blade revealed itself, wrapped in red light. I spun it once around my head, raised it vertically, and this time enveloped it with the Flaming Scent.

Fwoooosh!

A crimson shimmer began to flicker wildly along the blade.

As I poured both external force and internal energy into my right hand and shifted into the Fighting Rooster stance, the red haze aligned itself like a disciplined army. The blade calmed. But now, Heukmyoah’s edge turned a deep violet, as if soaked in blood.

I tilted the vertically raised sword slightly to the right and met Nam Garak’s gaze.

“Sect Leader, are you ready to die?”

“……”

The officers watching from the side spoke to Nam Garak.

“Lord of the Society?”

Their tone carried a subtle implication: “Let’s stop here.”

Nam Garak was staring fixedly at my violet-colored sword. He knew that continuing this duel would lead to far worse humiliation than when we fought barehanded.

At this point, Nam Garak needed reason more than pride.

His lips parted, and in a composed voice, he spoke to me.

“There’s no need to test sword techniques. I concede.”

Nam Garak exhaled deeply, his mind settling in an instant, and then withdrew his sword.

Still glaring at him, I slowly withdrew the internal energy I’d been feeding into Heukmyoah. The blade, once glowing with purple rage, gradually faded to a calm white. I sheathed the sword and said,

“Composure is a form of strength too. You ended it well.”

I understand the hearts of men with strong pride. Nam Garak would need time. In situations like this, even his subordinates’ comfort would be unwanted. He just needed to be left alone. He’s a man of pride, yes, but also of great responsibility. He would return to his original self.

I glanced around the Namyeonghui compound like someone with no lingering attachment, then turned to Nam Garak and his subordinates.

“See you again.”

I didn’t ask for anything. I didn’t mock the Namyeonghui. I just turned and walked away.

After I had taken three or four steps, Nam Garak spoke again in a calm voice.

“Sect Leader, won’t you at least have some tea before you go?”

“Let’s do that another time.”

I stopped walking for a moment and looked up at the sky. It had rained just the other day, yet today the weather was completely clear.

“The clouds…”

Nam Garak, perhaps unable to hold back his curiosity, asked from behind me,

“What happens next?”

Watching the drifting clouds, I replied,

“We’ll see. Haomun is Haomun. Namyeonghui is Namyeonghui. If the chance comes, let’s face off again. If any of the Namyeonghui officers want to spar with me, tell them to come find me later. As long as they’re as dignified as your Lord, they’re welcome anytime.”

Only then did I turn back to face the Namyeonghui. The entire faction was watching me. After a pause, I said,

“If Sword-Breaking Society or Nam Cheon-yeong causes trouble, contact Haomun.”

Nam Garak asked,

“And if we do?”

With my left hand resting lightly on Heukmyoah, I answered,

“…It’s war.”

I could have added more. But I didn’t.

The choice belonged to Nam Garak.

Would he remain with the Namyeonghui and die as he did in my previous life, or change # Nоvеlight # his fate by joining Haomun? I had no desire to force the fate of any person or sect.

But if Nam Garak’s heart changed… then fate would change too.

‘If it’s to that extent, even the heavens would forgive the twist of fate.’

As I parted ways with the Namyeonghui and made my way back to the Black Cat Pavilion, countless thoughts passed through my mind.

But one thing was clear:

To change fate, you have to first change your mindset.

That goes not only for Nam Garak, but for me as well.

We’re both men. And for men, changing one’s mind is no easy feat. But then again, when has changing fate ever been easy?

It’s a hard thing by nature.

By now, Nam Garak was probably sitting somewhere, nursing his wounded pride and gathering his thoughts. But the same went for me. Having acted like a normal martial artist the whole time instead of a madman, my head was left spinning.

Still, I think I handled things pretty well.

Moyong Baek’s voice echoed in my ears throughout the fight.

‘What if we channel that madness to only emerge when you face a true master?’

Each time I wanted to grab Nam Garak by the collar and cave in his face with my fist, I mulled over Moyong Baek’s words.

I needed to train my mind to shift from rampaging madness to cold, calculated madness. Just like the surface of a river remains calm while big and small fish tear each other apart below.

What I needed now was peace like a river. Walking along the road, I hummed like a tavern boy sweeping the floor.

“Peace like a river to me, peace like a river to me, madness like the sea to me, surging madness to me…”

.

.

.

Overflowing.