The rising talents faced each other with faces taut with tension, yet brimming with even greater anticipation, as they tested each other's martial arts.
Watching them from the spectator stands, a thought suddenly crossed my mind.
With my memories from before the regression, wasn't I, in effect, experiencing a Rejuvenation?
If so, it might be a terribly immature act to squeeze myself among them, squabbling over the victory.
Of course, the Great Return Pill was tempting, but… honestly, wasn't it rather unbecoming of an adult?
To be specific, it was like Seomun Hwa-rin trying to make a name for herself at the Dragon Phoenix Gathering to wash away her identity.
"…"
"Hm? Why are you looking at this lady like that?"
"It's nothing. I was just thinking my standards have gotten a bit high lately."
The people I usually saw were geniuses like Tang So-wol, born with the Poison Spirit Constitution in the Tang Clan, or Seol Ri-hyang, who showed overwhelming talent when it came to handling Yin-Cold True Energy.
Lately, I'd seen life-and-death duels with the Black Heaven Sword Gate's martial artists who threw themselves at me with reckless abandon, and Aura clashes between absolute masters of the Harmony Realm like Seomun Hwa-rin or the Lord of the Black Alliance.
Watching these rising talents spar, who were only a cut above the rest, it felt… how should I put it…
It was good that they showed competitive spirit, but the steam just leaked right out.
That said, apart from their martial level or the content of the sparring itself, the martial arts they displayed were quite interesting.
Before my regression, I had obsessively collected sword arts, but most of them were Unorthodox Sects' martial arts or arts that had been corrupted after the Demonic Cult's invasion.
Most of them were killing-focused martial arts steeped in killing intent. Practical in real combat, sure, but…
The problem is that martial arts aren't just about swinging a blade.
Of course, to me, martial arts are nothing more than techniques for killing people, and many Unorthodox Sects' martial artists would agree.
But what I'm saying is only the truth for me—it's not some universal law of the world.
In reality, Orthodox Sects' martial arts often carry principles and philosophies beyond just harming an opponent, but that doesn't mean Orthodox martial artists are weak.
Unorthodox martial artists may achieve breakthroughs quickly, but when it comes to the realm of true masters, the number of Orthodox martial artists is overwhelmingly higher.
A sword that isn't meant for becoming stronger, yet is the fastest path to strength.
I still don't understand it—which is exactly why it's all the more fascinating.
"Father-in-law."
"So-wol is up next."
"That's not what I wanted to ask."
"Lady Seol is the one after that."
"That's not what I wanted to ask either. I already know the order of the two of them."
"Then what is it?"
Tang Jincheon, who had been watching the training ground, slowly turned his head toward me.
"What do you think makes a martial art strong?"
"So I thought you were spouting nonsense again, but that's surprisingly a difficult question."
Tang Jincheon, who had been pondering for a moment, opened his mouth.
"Defeating an enemy is strength, and protecting oneself from an enemy is also strength… but the most difficult thing is protecting others. That is why I believe the martial art that can protect someone is the strongest martial art."
"That is a reply befitting the Orthodox Sects. However, could you give me an example?"
"What need is there to say it? For me, there is the Myriad Streams Return to Origin Divine Art… and the Tang Clan's poison art is just the same."
"Poison art…?"
At my doubtful voice, Tang Jincheon chuckled and continued.
"The Tang Clan is not openly criticized because we uphold righteousness and because we have power… but in the martial world, using poison usually earns you a bad reputation."
"That's true."
"Do you know why?"
"Isn't it because they fall without even being given a chance to display their martial arts?"
"Well said. How could someone with pride as strong as a martial artist endure having the art they built their entire life on denied? …But that's only from the perspective of the one on the receiving end."
Tang Jincheon spreads one hand with his palm facing the sky. A trace of internal energy stirs, then gathers into a thick, writhing black smoke that begins to swirl above his palm.
It's an art possible only because Tang Jincheon, having undergone a Bone-Exchange Rebirth, has become a perfect Poison Human—even without the Poison Spirit Constitution.
Perhaps it's thanks to having grown somewhat accustomed to poison by eating Tang So-wol's poison every day. The moment I saw it, I knew instinctively.
That's dangerous. The moment it touches, I'll melt away in an instant without even a chance to resist.
I instinctively tensed into a defensive stance, and Tang Jincheon let out a soft chuckle as he clenched his fist. At that, the poisonous mist vanished without a trace, as if it had never been there at all.
"Do you understand? You weren't poisoned, but the mere thought that you might have been was enough to make you shrink back."
"How many people could face the Poison King's poison without flinching?"
"Enough with the flattery. Even if it weren't my poison, any poison you couldn't easily resist would have drawn the same reaction. From the standpoint of one who practices the poison art, merely having that hold over an opponent is a gain in itself."
He was right. Unless there's an overwhelming gap in skill, a fight ultimately comes down to reading your opponent's moves. If poison can block most of the opponent's options, there's no greater advantage than that.
Tang Jincheon nodded and continued.
"Poison, in the end, is something that eats away at the body. Thanks to it, you can face more enemies, fight while taking fewer risks… and even if you meet an overwhelmingly strong opponent, you can bet your life and land at least one solid blow."
"Ah."
The first thing that came to mind was before the regression. The news of the Sichuan Tang Clan's extermination.
How exactly had the Tang Clan met its end? Only the Heavenly Demon who destroyed them would know the full details…
But it wasn't hard to imagine the ferocity of the struggle from the land soaked in poison, where no living creature could survive, and the hidden weapons packed so tightly together there was no room to even step.
They must have all burned their own lives trying to poison the Heavenly Demon even a little, to embed even one hidden weapon into him.
If one person wasn't enough, the next would try. And if that still wasn't enough, the next after that.
Everything was for the greater cause, for revenge for those who had died first… and to protect their families.
Thanks to that, Tang So-wol was able to escape, and although the Tang Clan's household had scattered in all directions, a considerable number of them had managed to survive.
Even though Tang Jincheon of the previous life had failed to bring down the Heavenly Demon… remembering his deeds, I understood clearly what Tang Jincheon was trying to say.
"So that's it. The price may be steep, but when it truly matters, there's a chance to turn the impossible into the possible—that's why the poison art is the strongest martial art."
"Exactly. It's no wonder you're quick to understand, being my son-in-law."
Tang Jincheon let out a satisfied chuckle. It had been a brief exchange, but thanks to it, I felt like I'd caught a glimpse of what he pursued.
Tang Jincheon had chosen to be the head of a great family, the Sichuan Tang Clan, rather than simply a martial artist.
What mattered to him was protecting the family that had endured and prospered for so long—even at the cost of his own life—and keeping his people safe.
He wished to become a great wall that would keep outsiders from daring to lay a hand on the Tang Clan.
That was a truly orthodox answer… no, a very Sichuan Tang Clan answer.
Even after living with the Tang Clan for a while and growing somewhat accustomed to it, this way of thinking still felt foreign to me.
However, if the ones I had to protect were not a massive collective like a clan, but just a few people around me, then I could sympathize with that to some extent.
I too, for Tang So-wol or Seol Ri-hyang—though I doubted a Harmony Realm martial artist would ever be in such danger—if Seomun Hwa-rin were in peril right before my eyes, I would gladly thrust my sword into that danger.
Win or lose, life or death, none of it mattered. It was simply what had to be done. Otherwise, I felt I would go mad.
Amidst a sensation that tickled at the edge of my grasp, I bowed my head deeply.
"Thank you, Father-in-law. Thanks to you, I feel a bit clearer now."
"It's nothing. As a senior who has walked this path before you, and as a father-in-law, I can offer this much advice to my son-in-law anytime. …Actually, I find it rather curious that you even asked this question."
"Pardon?"
"Isn't it so? Questions like which martial art is strong, or what the strongest martial art is, are usually asked by children who have just begun to learn martial arts."
"…Come to think of it, I never actually harbored such doubts when I was young."
Naturally, I knew that advanced martial arts and divine arts were better than third-rate martial arts.
And that was enough. Instead of entertaining any further questions, I focused only on growing stronger with what was already in my hands.
To me, martial arts were a tool for survival. That thought remains unchanged, but…
Having lost everything once before my regression, I now know that surviving alone means nothing.
Of course, Tang Jincheon's words could not be the answer for me.
In the end, my own matters are something I must realize and decide for myself.
But as advice, just as Tang Jincheon had said, it was quite valuable.
And if you are confident you won't be swayed, the more advice the better.
I poked Seomun Hwa-rin in the side as she pretended to watch the sparring match while stealing glances and eavesdropping on us.
"Yah?! S-speak with words! What's with the sudden poking!"
"Senior Seomun Hwa-rin, what do you think?"
"About what?"
"You don't have to pretend you didn't hear when you were listening the whole time."
"I-I truly don't know what you're talking about…"
Seomun Hwa-rin averted her gaze and feigned ignorance. But before long, she cautiously turned back to me and continued speaking.
"Hem-hem. Well, to put it a bit seriously, for me, powerful martial arts are like crying out at the top of one's lungs."
"Pardon?"
"It is to shout loudly to the world. To declare that I have suffered such an injustice, and I will repay it in kind."
"That's…"
"It is also a voice meant for myself, and it is fine if completely unrelated people hear it… but the one I most wish to hear it is, of course, my enemy."
Seomun Hwa-rin continued speaking in a calm voice, a faint smile on her lips.
"To cry out so loudly that it can be heard no matter how far away they are, that it reaches them even if they cover their ears, that even if I cannot go to them myself, they will lose sleep from fear. That is the martial art I uphold, and how loudly one cries is what leads to strength."
I understood what she was saying. I understood what she was pursuing as well.
But.
"…What was at the end of it?"
"Eyes swollen from crying. A voice hoarse from screaming. A body so exhausted it seemed ready to collapse at any moment. And the gaze of those who looked at me as if they were sick of me. That is what remained."
Tang Jincheon had wished to leave something behind in this world, even if he himself were to fall.
Seomun Hwa-rin, on the other hand, had nothing. Her martial art only drove herself and those around her slowly toward ruin.
That was why, the moment she achieved her revenge, she must have realized it.
That it had been too much.
She had obtained the power she so desperately desired, and achieved her revenge—yet all that remained in her hands was blood.
Only after examining the very bottom of herself and accepting it could she ascend to the Harmony Realm.
The powerful martial art Seomun Hwa-rin spoke of was surely what she had pursued in the past. If so.
"Senior Seomun Hwa-rin."
"Hm?"
"How is it now?"
"…"
At my utterly out-of-the-blue question, Seomun Hwa-rin pondered for a moment, then let out a clear laugh and shook her head.
"Strength in martial arts no longer matters to me. The only thing that matters is whether I have obtained what I desired."
"It will be so."
What Seomun Hwa-rin wished for was to return to the past… to the happiest days of her life.
Unless one experienced a regression like mine, actually going back was impossible, but she could still build toward it from now on. It wasn't too late yet.
With that sentiment in my heart, I lightly placed my hand on the back of Seomun Hwa-rin's hand.
For a moment, she stiffened. But soon coming to her senses, she let out a small laugh and asked me.
"Everyone has shared something one by one, so now only you remain. What do you think strong martial arts are?"
"Well, nothing special."
Having heard Tang Jincheon and Seomun Hwa-rin's stories, I found them somewhat informative, but… a lifetime of established values wouldn't be overturned in a single morning, would they?
"Martial arts that are good at killing people are strong martial arts."
Looking down at the training ground, the sparring match had ended.
A peaceful sparring match where everyone had shown everything they had, yet no one had died.
Next, it was Tang So-wol's turn to step up.