That evening, the lands of the Poison Clan were drowned in heavy silence.
Atop a towering tree, Jin stood.
He no longer thought deeply, nor did he debate.
He had merged with Murim itself.
He now understood that every step inevitably led to the next, and that every action… carried a known price.
He had learned that some things are read without being spoken.
As he expected—
On the roof of the clan's gate, one man stood.
Elder Shin Han-Dra.
His eyes were calm, his stance steady, his gaze utterly composed.
Jin spoke clearly:
— I don't want a massacre in the night. I still possess some pride… unlike you. It would be better if we go somewhere far away.
The elder did not reply.
He simply moved.
They leapt together—over trees, over lesser mountains—
until they reached a deserted peak among the Ten Thousand Mountains.
The elder spoke first, calmly:
— Do you have someone backing you, that you fear us so little?
Jin smiled faintly.
— You're very cold… for someone who killed his grandson in the past, and whose son was killed today.
The elder replied without hesitation:
— Anger is useless now. This is the way of Jianghu. Emotions only lead to greater pain in times like these.
Jin sighed.
— Ha… you truly are emotionless.
Then he added, But you're right, so I'll answer you.
He raised his head slightly.
— Is there someone backing me? No… certainly not.
Then he chuckled softly.
— But it seems that person finds this situation amusing. Otherwise, I wouldn't still be alive. What's happening is an unreal anomaly… even fantasy novels wouldn't go this far.
The elder drew his sword.
— I'll admit it, he said sincerely.
— You are impressive… but there is no turning back after this.
And the battle began.
The swords collided.
It was not a reckless charge—
but a calculated clash.
Jin immediately fought using the Poison Clan's own techniques.
— Style: Fangs of Stillness – Third Movement!
The elder countered:
— Poison Reversal – Fifth Movement!
Jin retreated half a step.
Their blades spun in a half-circle.
— Hidden Vein Dance – Second Movement!
— Venomous Shadow Cut – First Movement!
The clashes continued.
Sparks flew.
Poison scattered.
The air around them grew heavy.
Over the past month, Jin had fought the elder's illusion hundreds of times…
but reality was different.
The elder did not rush.
He did not hurry, nor did he err without reason.
And although Jin knew every movement…
he could not land a decisive hit.
He found no opening.
No window.
Each time he tried to force a supreme strike, the elder shattered the rhythm.
Even the Lesser Heavenly Demon Sword Art proved ineffective.
Jin was wounded—
first the shoulder,
then the thigh,
then a deep gash across his chest.
Blood began to flow.
He didn't understand.
He knew all of his opponent's styles.
He knew dozens more arts than him.
His body had been reconstructed twice, surpassing the elder's unchanged physique.
And mana?
He possessed nearly four hundred years of internal energy—
only slightly less than half of Han-Dra's.
And yet…
he could not control the battle.
The elder, meanwhile, also took wounds—
but each one was calculated.
He did not abuse poison, nor rely on it as a crutch.
He fought… like a true warrior.
His level was overwhelming.
Without Jin's immense reserves of energy, he would have died long ago.
And then Jin understood.
No matter how great talent or power may be—
true experience… is decisive.
Then the mistake happened.
A tiny opening appeared.
— Thrust: Poison King's Claw!
The blade pierced forward.
No time to block.
No path to evade.
It was truly the end.
At the final moment—
Jin fired a mana blast from his free hand.
It struck the blade, shifting its trajectory by a hair's breadth.
Jin countered instantly.
A mad surge.
One thrust.
Mana exploded forward like a cannon of light before his eyes.
It did not fully strike the elder.
But—
It split the ground behind him.
Dozens of meters were carved open, as if a dragon's breath had scorched the land.
Burned.
Gouged.
Charred.
As for the elder—
His arm.
And half of his right side.
Pierced through.
And yet—
He remained standing.
His feet rooted as if by miracle.
His sword shattered from the force.
But his back stayed straight.
He looked at Jin.
— You…
His breath was ragged.
— are a truly… strange phenomenon.
And his final breath faded.
Shin Han-Dra died standing.
A majestic sight.
A righteous warrior…
within a family steeped in filth.
Jin dropped to his knees.
Panting.
His body weighed down by wounds, blood covering him.
He looked at the standing corpse before him.
— You…
he said quietly.
— made me win without honor.
And you protected your clan from death by my hand.
You truly… deserve respect.
He bowed, saluting him as one salutes a master.
— Thank you. You taught me much.
And thus—
An entire peak of the Ten Thousand Mountains
was destroyed.
Its adornments:
• The corpse of an elder standing upright
• And a thrust-mark beyond natural measure
And so…
the legend of a brave old man was born,
and alongside it, the legend of a young miracle in Jianghu.