Bang!

A flare burst with a whoosh. It was a signal round spat from Python.

Biyeon leaped forward with explosive power, slashing down with her blade.

A single strike brimming with Sword Principle to overflowing.

The culmination of a genius favored by the universe, honed over a lifetime.

A sword strike deserving of every superlative surged toward Lee Taebaek.

Snap.

He flicked his finger.

Ice barriers layered up in front of Lee Taebaek.

Of course, they shattered to pieces under Biyeon’s strike—practically vaporized.

Ice shards scattered in all directions.

Biyeon’s reflection glittered across every fragment. Her eyes rapidly scanned them.

He’s not there.

Lee Taebaek, who had been behind the ice wall, was gone.

She had expected as much—the ice wall was just a smokescreen. He was surely preparing a counterattack from somewhere.

“Impressive.”

Biyeon let out a hollow chuckle. Even though it was indoors, her breath escaped in a long plume. The surroundings had frozen solid.

Was that why?

Her senses felt sluggish. Not that she could detect even a hint of presence anyway.

Biyeon’s martial talent was exceptional.

In her life, she could count on one hand those on her level.

The Former Heavenly Demon.

Shaolin’s Staff Master.

The Herculean Art Master.

Even they had been equals only in the past.

No one could match the current Biyeon. Knowing this, Staff Master, who was at odds with her, had unhesitatingly aided Lee Taebaek in every way.

She hadn’t neglected her training out of boredom. If anything, she had approached it with far greater diligence than before.

The stronger Biyeon became, the more radiant the Former Heavenly Demon’s legacy shone.

How much more so if Biyeon achieved ascension?

The Former Heavenly Demon would be remembered not as a loser, but as “the teacher’s god” by posterity.

Just a little more.

Just as ascension’s threshold came into view, Biyeon’s ambition pierced the heavens.

That was Biyeon.

And yet.

Is this what Presence Concealment at divine level feels like?

Presence Concealment, the privilege of the strong.

But it came with a caveat: it only worked on those inferior to the user.

In other words, it didn’t faze equals or superiors.

However.

“I am even more inferior than you!”

Lee Taebaek placed Biyeon beneath him with Presence Concealment alone.

She couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

If her subordinates saw, they might want to tear his limbs off for mocking their lord.

If they could, that is.

Ha… ha… ha…

Laughter echoed.

Time was dragging on lazily.

Biyeon sharpened her focus.

This isn’t mere illusion.

It was one of Lee Taebaek’s abilities she had witnessed before.

Bullet Time.

The supreme art that artificially slowed time.

Biyeon didn’t know its name or principles.

But she had pieced together its performance and countermeasures in her mind.

She wiggled her fingers. Her nails twitched.

Movable enough.

That was all she needed.

Shwaaaaa!

Biyeon unleashed her fighting spirit in an instant.

Right after the floating ice shards crumbled to powder.

A chill grazed the nape of her neck.

“There you are!”

Biyeon instantly reversed her grip on the mind sword and thrust behind her.

“…!”

Something was off.

There was no resistance at all.

Even stabbing a hay bale would meet some snag.

Let alone a human. This sensation couldn’t come from piercing flesh—it wasn’t even like slicing air.

Biyeon turned with creaking eyes.

No way…

It was there.

Just a hunk of metal floating idly, aiming at the back of her head.

Lee Taebaek’s cherished Python.

Witnessing a gun flying on its own was enough to stun even Biyeon.

Frankly, she hadn’t understood why he’d pull metal junk into a transcendent duel from the start.

But Lee Taebaek was a god, in truth.

There had to be reason in his actions.

What Biyeon needed to figure out right now was one thing.

How?

The method.

Biyeon analyzed the phenomenon in that split-second, her brain cells accelerating alone on a timeline frozen solid.

Whiiiir.

She was the Magic Tower Master, head of an organization researching such anomalies.

Telekinesis? No.

If it were telekinesis, she’d sense foreign manipulation beyond the metal.

This hunk of iron carried only cold air…

No way.

Focusing harder, she saw it.

Crystalline snowflakes bloomed freakishly around the revolver.

The implication was clear. Biyeon deduced the principle in less than a second.

“Ha.”

Absurd.

So this was a god.

“Freezing space itself.”

“Impressive. You figured it out right away.”

A voice intruded on Biyeon’s private timeline. No surprise there. Her personal space-time had long been rendered meaningless. Lee Taebaek could freely enter even her thoughts.

So there was only one way.

Minimize thinking.

Act purely.

Trust the fruits of her lifelong training.

Honor the Former Heavenly Demon’s will and challenge a god with mortal flesh.

Bang…!

Python spat fire from its maw.

The bullet hadn’t been fired yet.

Flames trailed like a tail as the bullet spiraled along the streamlined rifling and closed in.

It seemed about to embed in her cornea any instant.

A mere bullet, yet facing it in halted time was chilling to the bone.

Feeling dread at last, Biyeon flicked her finger.

Snap.

The next moment.

Slash!

The barrel split.

The bullet, just emerging for a look at the world, met the same fate.

Biyeon let muscle memory guide her fingers in rapid snaps. Snap, snap, snap, snap. Friction rang out as Python was diced to pieces.

“…Phantom Sword?”

Lee Taebaek’s incredulous voice came from somewhere.

Phantom Sword.

This was a concept Lee Taebaek had merely thought of.

Back in his developer days, he hadn’t even coded it, let alone jotted it in notepad. Just an idle musing while on the toilet: This would be total bullshit… Then, flushed away with the water.

Yet it had materialized.

The inventor himself couldn’t help but be astonished.

He was aware of the “Major Patch,” but not its specifics.

He’d only hypothesized that his imagination toyed with this world.

Thus, Biyeon’s split-second counter validated his theory, adding flesh to it.

Perhaps…

As Lee Taebaek pondered gravely, Biyeon spoke.

“You can be surprised too, it seems.”

She curled her lips till her under-eye twitched.

“I thought my dimples chafed from all the shocks since arriving here. Turns out that was a miscalculation, thanks to you.”

“A miscalculation? High praise from a foe. But is that wise? You’ve already lit the fire of ambition in one who bears the will of the winds. Your single compliment will turn my inner flames into a demon blaze.”

“Take it back, then. Not that impressive.”

Lies.

Phantom Sword was the pinnacle scam technique within Lee Taebaek’s imaginative reach.

It existed in reality, yet vanished when targeted.

You know, like.

Schrödinger’s cat.

One of those mass-produced quantum thought experiments from every medium.

Non-expert Lee Taebaek didn’t grasp the theory.

He’d just slapped quantum mechanics onto something that seemed existent and powerful.

One thing’s certain.

Unlike mind sword.

In versatility, if not raw power, it was superior.

No comparison.

“Two-faced words ill suit you.”

With Biyeon’s smile, cracks spiderwebbed through space-time.

Phantom Sword had rent space.

Lee Taebaek’s Bullet Time shattered like glass.

Biyeon wiggled her fingers.

Lee Taebaek was suddenly assailed by illusions of needles stabbing from all sides.

Lee Taebaek opened his umbrella.

As expected.

Phantom Sword struck. The umbrella shredded into rags in real time.

He tossed the hollow stick of Para Blade.

The spiraling umbrella core flew; Biyeon tilted her head to deflect it and drove her mind sword.

Lee Taebaek angled his blade diagonally to parry, then shattered a flagstone to close in. Biyeon thrust her free palm. Dodging threw his blade’s path off straight.

Boom!

Everything where he’d been was erased.

Feeling dread, Lee Taebaek spun in place. His blade met the mind sword.

He scattered ice along its path to slow it.

Still terrifying power.

This won’t do.

Lee Taebaek laid Ice Magic at Biyeon’s feet, then punched. She tried blocking with mind sword, but the fist’s shockwave slid her back.

“Haa, haa.”

Lee Taebaek regulated his breath, watching her retreat.

Damn.

This is way too broken.

Slicing space-time with a sword.

No time to complain.

Lee Taebaek suddenly appeared from empty space.

He released the Ice Magic freezing his presence entirely.

The sight stunned Biyeon momentarily, but she refocused.

She thrust her mind sword.

“Guhk!”

The groan came from Biyeon.

Lee Taebaek had kicked her gut, sending her flying back.

Clutching her chest as she skidded, Biyeon stabbed mind sword into the ground to brake.

Halting, she unleashed again. Lee Taebaek met her mid-leap. Para Blade and mind sword clashed high. His blade lacked cutting power; it snapped with a crack.

He froze space around the edge, condensing it onto the blade. Unbreakable.

“A sword that can’t be cut.”

Blades ground.

“I am a swordswoman. It only stokes my rivalry more.”

Biyeon shifted her center forward. Balance tipped simultaneously. In an instant, she bore down from above.

Lee Taebaek snapped his wrist, flicking the blade to unbalance her. Biyeon toppled forward.

He dropped low, claiming bottom position first, and swung. Para Blade traced a full moon toward her falling face.

Snap.

Phantom Sword again.

Lee Taebaek had anticipated.

Snap.

Snowflakes bloomed wildly in empty space.

This time, he froze the Phantom Sword.

He blocked the defense.

Para Blade advanced.

Biyeon’s breath split against the edge.

Swish.

Swallow twist.

Grab.

She seized his collar.

Crash!

They tumbled roughly across the floor.

Entwined, rolling end over end.

After some revolutions, Lee Taebaek’s fist slammed into her solar plexus.

Biyeon choked, releasing him with a strangled gasp.

Having opened distance, Lee Taebaek wiped his chin.

“A duel of Phantom Swords and space-time incisions.”

A lax smile played on his lips.

“…And it ends in a Naryeotagon. Utter nonsense.”

Biyeon rose, dusting her white robes, then shrugged her slipped top back onto her shoulders as she replied.

“Don’t beginnings and ends always differ?”

“In the Jianghu, isn’t Naryeotagon a sign of submission?”

Biyeon suddenly cupped fist to palm in salute.

“It can also mean boundless respect for one’s opponent.”