Martial Arts Ain't That Big of a Deal-Chapter 261: The Dangerous Guy in My Heart (3)

The Golden Fortune Divine Sword is all swords in one.

Heavy swords, swift swords, transforming swords, illusory swords, destructive swords, blunt swords—every principle of the blade is contained within a single weapon.

At its core lies the truth of Limitless Yin-Yang.

Though Limitlessness and Tai Chi may appear separate, they are fundamentally one. Energy splits into Yin and Yang, creating all things, yet its essence remains unchanged.

Limitlessness is the vast ocean, while Tai Chi is a single wave rising upon its surface.

Whether the wave swells or subsides, the sea remains the sea.

Thus, the essence of the Golden Fortune Divine Sword is simply the sword itself—holding within it the untouched state of Limitlessness.

The sword itself is void, yet it carries the potential to become all things. Despite this, its fundamental nature as a sword never changes.

The same truth applies to Golden Fortune Divine Art. It seeks to manifest Limitlessness, which is both the self and the infinite potential yet to be realized.

However, Primordial Chaos Divine Art is different.

Primordial Chaos has already embraced all things. It is full by nature, an existence where all things have already merged into one.

Thus, Primordial Yin-Yang directly collides with Limitless Yin-Yang.

Limitlessness begins from the void, carrying the potential to become anything, whereas Primordial Chaos has already encompassed all existence from the very beginning.

In this sense, all things are but fragments of the entity called Primordial Chaos.

One holds the potential to become all things.

The other is all things.

They are both identical yet different, the distinction born from human arrogance, an attempt to label and define the undefinable.

Seo-jun no longer needed to differentiate between Primordial Chaos Divine Art and Primordial Chaos Sun-Moon Art.

Up until now, he had shattered his own incomplete Yin-Yang to wield the Primordial Chaos Sun-Moon Art, but now, he had reached the point where he could form Tai Chi from Chaos itself.

The shell of a dragon, carrying the essence of Primordial Chaos, split open as its gaping maw descended.

Sword Maniac, standing amidst the battlefield with his sword and puppet, trembled at the overwhelming presence and turned his head sharply.

A jet-black abyss. A bottomless void beyond all comprehension lay before him.

[Ah...!]

The body of blood that made up his form quivered. A revelation he had yet to fully grasp struck his soul like a bolt of divine lightning.

Though he did not consciously recognize the presence before him as Primordial Chaos, he instinctively knew:

That energy, its very nature—this was the ultimate truth he had sought.

The Formless Sword, a blade without shape or structure, followed the same principle as the Myriad Blades.

Gazing upon Primordial Chaos, Sword Maniac saw Limitlessness.

[What... is that...?]

Seo-jun’s puppet plunged its hand into Sword Maniac’s chest, and his blood-forged body was engulfed in the Sun and Moon’s radiance, vaporizing in an instant.

Yet Sword Maniac paid no mind.

He was consumed by the supreme martial truth unfolding before him—something both different from, yet akin to, the Golden Fortune Divine Sword.

“I need to know.”

What was the fundamental enlightenment contained within that?

Like a moth drawn to a flame, Sword Maniac hurled himself toward the gaping maw of the black dragon.

A formless sword slashed through the air, carving an unseen path.

Sword Maniac battered away the dragon’s fangs, stepping deep into its jaws and throwing himself inside.

Amidst the pitch-black chaos, Sword Maniac saw the entire universe.

Here, all things resided. This was a realm that encompassed everything.

He felt his very existence dissolving into Primordial Chaos.

An entity born from Chaos was now returning to it once more.

Sword Maniac bit down on his own tongue.

His blood-forged tongue had long lost the ability to feel pain, but through this act, he forcibly reclaimed his conscious will.

"I cannot be devoured.

I must be the one who devours."

With a deliberate breath, he summoned his power once more.

[Formless Sword.]

The words left his lips, carrying weight beyond mere sound.

The instant his will took shape—his sword moved with absolute precision.

The black dragon that had swallowed Sword Maniac was torn apart, its body ripped into countless fragments.

In that fleeting instant, Sword Maniac felt his own dwindling energy, yet he smiled radiantly.

That nameless force...

The Golden Fortune Divine Sword...

If he could claim even one of them, he would gladly sell his soul.

Seo-jun clenched his fist in silence.

The shattered remnants of the black dragon converged upon Sword Maniac.

The inverse flow of Primordial Chaos took form, merging with him.

Sword Maniac slashed through the engulfing fragments with Formless Sword, then charged toward Seo-jun.

His puppet followed closely behind.

Seo-jun observed his approaching foe and took a single step forward.

A single line carved through space itself.

His calm eyes took in everything before him.

To understand Primordial Chaos was to understand Limitlessness.

The principle of the Formless Sword was rooted in Limitlessness, and now, it was clearer than ever to him.

Seo-jun’s sight pierced through the distortion, revealing the countless flickering remnants of incomplete swords surrounding Sword Maniac.

As soon as he willed it, they would become blades that tore through space.

This was the Formless Sword.

The moment those shimmering blades trembled, Seo-jun kicked off the ground.

In an instant, he appeared right before Sword Maniac.

Behind him, the Formless Sword slashed through space.

Sword Maniac, though startled, reacted swiftly.

His blood-forged body quivered, and his twin blades swung in perfect unison.

At the same time, his Formless Sword turned its edge ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ toward Seo-jun.

Seo-jun recalled his flying sword.

The blade that had soared alongside the black dragon snapped back into his grasp.

In that span of time, Seo-jun effortlessly dodged every Formless Sword strike aimed at his vital points—his shoulders, pelvis, thighs, arms, eyes, forehead, chest, ankles, and abdomen.

With one swift motion, he summoned a Qi-forged sword in his right hand and forcefully struck Sword Maniac’s twin blades aside.

Sword Maniac’s hands were pushed back.

Undeterred, he twisted his shoulders and swung once more.

Seo-jun tilted his head slightly. The blood-forged blade brushed past his chin.

Meanwhile, the puppet had closed in from behind, thrusting its arms forward.

Sword Maniac launched a knee strike, deflecting the puppet’s attack.

With that force, he soared into the air, rapidly spinning as his twin blades carved intricate patterns through space.

Seo-jun took a single step back.

A single black sword landed in his grasp.

The puppet took a step forward.

Its body was sliced apart by Sword Maniac’s blade.

Even as its form was shredded, the puppet absorbed the surrounding energy, forcing its way toward Sword Maniac.

[Where do you think you're going...?!]

A hand stretched forward. Sword Maniac twisted his shoulder to evade and drove his opposite hand into the puppet’s abdomen.

Crack—!

His hand pierced through the puppet. And the puppet smiled.

“Boom.”

With that playful word, its body collapsed into a single point.

Ssst—!

The puppet contained the imagery of the sky, the sun, and the moon. Using its body of qi, it transformed itself into Inverse Heaven Sun-Moon Art.

A surge of black light flashed through the battlefield. Half of Sword Maniac’s body was gone. From the severed half of his torso, blood without form dripped down in thick streaks.

[Ugh....]

Sword Maniac frowned and looked at Seo-jun. He knew himself to be a madman, yet standing before this existence, he felt closer to common sense than ever before.

Something beyond comprehension. An entity still wearing the guise of a man, yet Sword Maniac could vaguely perceive its true essence.

This was something that should not be approached.

Yet he did not abandon his swordsmanship. If he could reclaim the techniques embedded within that, he could take another step toward completion.

And that was why he could not understand.

[To cast aside your own creation without hesitation...?]

It was an unfathomable thought. If a sword had been born from his hands, he would have given his life for it without question.

Not from something as trivial as paternal love, but out of reverence for another self, honed and perfected through his own will.

Seo-jun laughed at him.

“It is still me either way.”

To him, the puppet held no deeper meaning. It was merely a duplicate sharing his consciousness.

Because it had been granted imagery, a fragment of human thought, it held a sliver of self-awareness. But even if it self-destructed, its essence would not disappear.

It would simply return to where it once was.

[I’ll decide that myself. Now hand it over. Let me see that world too!]

Sword Maniac regenerated his lost half with blood, grinning wildly. The energy he had lost left his body feeling hollow.

Meanwhile, his opponent had barely consumed any strength.

He made a swift judgment.

‘I can’t let this fight drag on.’

Sword Maniac turned his awareness to the countless formless swords surrounding him.

The greater their number, the weaker each individual blade became. It was a simple reality.

So, he poured all his strength into compensating for the deficiency.

If his opponent could dodge Formless Sword, then he would make it impossible to evade. He would compress all space, forcing his target into a corner.

The mental strain was excruciating—his vision blurred, nausea churned in his stomach, and his skull felt as though it would split apart. But the thought of reclaiming those techniques sent a euphoric thrill coursing through his very core.

[Hahaha...!]

Countless formless blades surged toward Seo-jun.

There was nowhere to run. Too many to block. Each one carried power forged from a lifetime of blood and steel.

Yet Seo-jun remained indifferent.

He simply reached forward.

From the rift in space, the scattered fragments of shattered orbs returned to their rightful owner.

The sky, the earth, the sun, the moon, the mountains, the seas, the rivers, the plum blossoms—all things of the world flowed into his mind once more.

“Ideal World.”

As his outstretched hand opened, a vast new realm painted over space itself.

Formless blades struck.

The world expanded.

Sword Maniac lunged.

Seo-jun saw no difference between them.

For in the end, all things were merely fragments of Primordial Chaos.

“Return to Origin.”

Everything reverted to its fundamental state.

The Formless Sword, the world, and Sword Maniac merged into Chaos.

Seo-jun stood alone amidst the chaos-filled world, watching a feeble existence struggle.

[Ah...! Return to Origin! Yes! Chaos! So that’s what it was! I...!]

Sword Maniac, grinning brightly, finally returned to Chaos.

His voice vanished, leaving only silence.

No.

The two became one—Chaos itself.

Now, nothing remained.

And yet, at the same time, everything existed.

Within this realm where all had merged into its true essence, Seo-jun saw his own nature.

Deep—deep within.

The moment he peered inside, a blinding white lightning bolt seared through his mind.

A colossal eye.

The self.

A speck-like universe.

The origin.

The beginning.

Existence and nonexistence in simultaneous utterance.

Flailing limbs.

He moved forward, only to return to where he started.

Murky eyes perceived truth, and truth was born from murky eyes.

Birth and the act of being born.

Indescribable emotions, returning to their source.

A self drifting through the void.

A long body, bubbles forming with its every motion,

A universe within,

A dream,

And then—once again—himself.

“...Ah.”

By the time he came to his senses, Seo-jun was standing on solid ground.

The ruins of collapsed mountains surrounded him.

Somewhere within his imagery, Sword Maniac’s laughter still echoed.

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Seo-jun sneered.

How long would that bastard keep laughing?

And then—his body lurched. A sharp cough tore through his throat.

Dark, dead blood splattered the ground at his feet.

Seo-jun looked down at the blackened blood and smiled.

“...I’m fucked.”

This was the price.