A fairly spacious warehouse, closed off on all sides.
Old wooden practice swords and a few weapons hung on the walls, while several small windows let in faint light.
Aside from that, there was nothing inside. The place had long gone unused, leaving only layers of pale dust across the floor.
Glancing at the firmly shut warehouse door behind him, Jang Ui-bo watched Cheon U-ha, who was fetching a wooden sword from the wall display.
"Was there a reason you chose… this place?"
"Does it not suit you?"
Whoosh.
Cheon U-ha tossed the wooden sword he'd picked up toward Jang Ui-bo, wearing a faint smile.
Tak.
"At least here, we don't have to worry about interruptions."
"Well… that much is true."
Even as he nodded, Jang Ui-bo couldn't shake off a lingering discomfort.
Facing off with a boy barely ten years old was troubling enough—but most unsettling was the boy's demeanor.
Normally, no matter how bold a child might be, at some point they should show a hint of nervousness.
And yet this boy… looked not only calm, but as though he had wanted this from the start, even appearing relaxed and familiar with the situation.
When he suggested settling things alone, I thought he meant to talk in private…
If that had been the case, Jang Ui-bo would have let it go.
He had gone a little overboard earlier to seize the upper hand, but it was beneath him to seriously press a child.
But the so-called young master had brought him here without hesitation—and now was clearly challenging him to fight.
Even a battle-hardened man like Jang Ui-bo couldn't help but feel something unnatural in this.
"Let's begin."
Shhhk.
Gripping the wooden sword lightly, Cheon U-ha angled it toward Jang Ui-bo, centering it before his body.
The stance was more solid than expected, making Jang Ui-bo's eyes flicker with surprise.
Not entirely sloppy, huh.
It looked both tight and balanced, but with room for fluid counterattacks.
Considering the boy's age, the form alone was worthy of praise.
…Well, perhaps this is better.
It was awkward to have reached this point, but he had come to test the boy's talents as Seol An-geum had described.
The outcome of a matter depended on how it was concluded.
If the boy proved to have talent, he could use this fight as justification to subdue him first before taking him on as disciple.
If he had none, then the provocations earlier could be excused as merely testing a child who fell short.
Good… then…
What remained was to crush him decisively, so he could feel the difference in power.
Having settled his thoughts, Jang Ui-bo closed the distance to Cheon U-ha in a blink.
Pabat!
"Hah!"
With a short shout, his wooden sword came down vertically.
There was no wasted movement—just pure speed and strength.
It was an attack that demonstrated his honed mastery at a glance.
But as the blade fell toward U-ha's head, the boy did not so much as flinch.
This momentary stillness made Jang Ui-bo's eyes flash with confusion.
What? Can he not even react?
He had intentionally chosen a straightforward, avoidable strike.
Just as he shifted his sword mid-swing toward U-ha's shoulder—
Clang!
"Ugh…!"
Cheon U-ha, who had stood motionless, suddenly whipped his sword across, striking the side of Jang Ui-bo's blade with unexpected force.
The impact disrupted the altered strike, forcing Jang Ui-bo to halt his movement to regain balance.
But U-ha wasted no time—his wooden sword lashed low toward Jang Ui-bo's legs.
Thwack!
"—!"
The blow struck his thigh, making his leg buckle as he staggered.
Before he could regain posture, U-ha's sword shot toward his face.
Swish!
Bang!
"Kh…!"
At the last instant, Jang Ui-bo managed to block, pulling back his weapon.
But the sight was humiliating—he, gripping his sword tightly with both hands to withstand, while the child pressed down easily with one hand.
"Hm…"
Shhhk.
While Jang Ui-bo was filled with shock, U-ha frowned, dissatisfied.
Withdrawing his blade, he gave Jang Ui-bo a chance to retreat.
But he seemed unconcerned with his opponent. Instead, he looked down at his sword, displeasure on his face.
It doesn't feel right in my hand.
He hadn't used his full strength, but he had meant to incapacitate with that last strike.
And yet it had been blocked.
Jang Ui-bo had barely survived by desperate resistance—but to U-ha, the result was unsatisfactory.
If only this body were like before…
In his past life, Sa U-myeong had been born with the Heavenly Martial Body (천무지체), a physique said to appear once in a thousand years.
With it, and his mastery of Soul-Shattering Seven Destruction Strikes (파혼칠멸공)—one of the strongest demonic arts—he had carved his own path.
And now?
He had only the ordinary body of a ten-year-old boy, wielding a sword he had barely ever touched in his past life.
He had learned only basic slashes and thrusts from Cho Mu-do—half a session's worth. That was the entirety of his swordsmanship.
The only consolation was the pure inner energy he had cultivated over ten years with the Innate Heart Method (선천심법)—though meager, hardly more than a trickle.
…Well, no helping it.
To think he now had to cross swords with someone he wouldn't have spared a glance at in his former life. But with this body, there was no other choice.
…I'll just have to get used to the sword as I use it.
If once isn't enough, then I'll strike again and again until it breaks.
Raising his blade once more, U-ha fixed his gaze on Jang Ui-bo.
The man, steadying himself, asked in disbelief:
"You… how could a child your age… Since when have you trained in swordsmanship?"
"Since when, you ask? …Is that really so important?"
U-ha tilted his head, smirking.
"If I had to say—hm, about… thirty days?"
"You brat—don't spout nonsense!"
Jang Ui-bo's brows twitched as his voice rose.
"I've held the sword for nearly twenty years! Do you think I don't know how much training is required to produce such precision?"
"..."
"From that exchange just now, it's clear—you've already reached the stage of wielding inner energy. And yet you claim you achieved this in thirty days?"
"Hm…"
Cheon U-ha smiled faintly and nodded as if amused.
What the man said wasn't entirely wrong.
His swordsmanship amounted only to what he had learned from Cho Mu-do, true.
But his inner energy? That had been refined for ten long years through the Innate Heart Method.
Still…
Not that I even used it much just now.
In that exchange, he had only turned Jang Ui-bo's own strength against him.
With his current body and inner energy, he could not have overwhelmed him directly.
If Jang Ui-bo's skill had been higher, he might have realized that.
But at this level, the only explanation he could imagine was that U-ha had already mastered internal energy.
Of course, there was no reason—or intent—to explain. U-ha only gave a soft laugh.
"If you refuse to believe, then so be it."
"..."
"When something beyond your understanding happens… ordinary men question what they see, rather than their own limits."
"…!"
The words dripped with arrogance and certainty.
Struck speechless, Jang Ui-bo finally let out a hollow laugh.
"Ha… ha ha! Amusing. You're saying you are a genius beyond the comprehension of ordinary men?"
Shhhk.
"Well then. Originally, I only meant to test your talent. But perhaps I should also press down that arrogance of yours."
Lifting his wooden sword overhead, Jang Ui-bo began drawing upon his inner energy.
"It is also an adult's duty to teach a child that the world is wide."
The atmosphere changed, far different from his earlier probing strikes.
U-ha's lips curved faintly.
"…Good."
What fun was there in beating down a straw dummy?
Only when an opponent resisted did it bring satisfaction to crush them.
"Now then—watch carefully! Taha!"
Pabat!
With a bold cry, Jang Ui-bo advanced swiftly, his footwork light.
In just three steps, he had reached U-ha's side.
Then, with his sword raised overhead, he swung down, producing three afterimages rushing toward U-ha at once.
It was the manifestation of his signature technique—the Ghost Sword Triple Kill (귀검삼살)—the very move that had earned him the name Chaotic Ghost Sword.
Phantom blades?
Though somewhat crude, seeing such a technique from a wandering rogue was rare.
U-ha's eyes sharpened.
Swish!
Clang!
He brought his wooden sword up in a single vertical slash.
One solid blow struck the true blade, and the two false afterimages vanished instantly.
"What—how?!"
His finishing move broken in a single stroke—Jang Ui-bo's eyes widened in shock.
And in that instant—
Shhhk.
U-ha's wooden sword, still trembling lightly, split into three clear afterimages of its own.
"Is this how it's done?"
"W-what?!"
Bang!
Before he could react, U-ha's blade smashed down on his head.
The pain was blinding, his vision flashing white.
But beyond the pain, confusion filled him.
How does this brat know Ghost Sword Triple Kill?
That secret technique had elevated him, once a mere second-rate warrior, into a master.
It was the lost art of the Phantom Sword Sect, annihilated forty years ago.
How could it possibly appear in the hands of a child?
Dazed, Jang Ui-bo stared at U-ha—
Pabat!
Shhhk!
U-ha leapt lightly into the air, his sword shimmering again—this time forming five afterimages.
This… this can't be…
The phantom blades streaked toward him, each on a slightly different trajectory.
A sight so surreal it felt like a dream.
And then, the crushing strike fell upon his head.
Bang! Boom!
Blows rained down on him, battering his skull.
Only then did he realize he had forgotten to defend.
Even as agony filled him, awe spilled from his lips.
"Impossible… I've lost…"
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
But before he could finish the words of surrender, U-ha's blade crashed against his face again and again.
Blood spattered, his vision swimming. Yet, strangely, he smiled faintly.
So… he doesn't intend to stop.
…Fair enough.
This was why the boy had brought him here.
Through the vivid pain, Jang Ui-bo realized the truth—he had provoked someone he should never have touched.
His consciousness dimmed.
"Haah…"
Step, step.
"Huuh…"
Step, step.
"Haah…"
"Oh, stop that already! You're driving me mad!"
Outside the warehouse, Cho Mu-do paced nervously in front of the shut door.
Unable to stand it, Seol An-geum finally scowled and snapped.
"You can't even go in, so how long will you keep fussing like that?"
"Fussing? You'd have me just sit here idly and wait?"
"Either way, the result is the same. Surely the Chaotic Ghost Sword wouldn't go too far against a child."
Seol An-geum sounded annoyed—but his eyes were fixed uneasily on the ground.
Truthfully, Jang Ui-bo was a man of honor, but sometimes his temper made him act rashly.
And that thought only made Cho Mu-do more restless.
At last, he declared:
"No. I must see for myself what's happening inside."
"Calm yourself. Didn't they ask us not to enter until it was done?"
"Even so, the Young Master's safety comes first."
Step, step.
As he finished, Cho Mu-do strode to the door and grabbed the handle.
"W-wait! Don't be so hasty—"
Clatter!
Before Seol An-geum could finish, Cho Mu-do threw the door open.
And what he saw inside stunned him.
Boom! Thud!
"—Huh?"
The sound of a heavy strike echoed.
Someone, battered by wooden sword blows, collapsed limply to the floor.
His face was swollen and bloodied beyond recognition—yet his build and clothes gave him away.
…The Chaotic Ghost Sword?
Cho Mu-do blinked in disbelief.
What was this?
The Chaotic Ghost Sword was leagues beyond himself or Seol An-geum.
A hardened martial man, not someone who would ever disgrace himself before a boy.
Then… what did I just see?
As he recalled the scene, he froze.
U-ha's wooden sword striking Jang Ui-bo's head and face.
In that moment, it had seemed to split into multiple blades.
If his eyes hadn't deceived him…
Could that have been… Phantom Sword Technique?
Still reeling, Cho Mu-do stood dumbstruck when—
"Instructor Cho Mu-do."
"Ah—y-yes?"
Cheon U-ha, staring down at the fallen Jang Ui-bo, turned his flat, expressionless gaze on him.
"Who told you to open the door?"
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