Yeon Hwi-tae's Argument
After replaying the biwu (martial contest) in his mind, Yeon Hwi-tae looked around.
Everyone who had been watching seemed frozen, as if time itself had stopped. Seeing their expressions, he gave a bitter smile, stood up, and walked over to Elder Gi Hyeok-do of the Mount Hua Sect, who had been officiating the match.
"How about it? That was my win, right?"
"W-what…?"
Gi Hyeok-do, completely thrown off by the absurd situation, asked again in confusion at Yeon Hwi-tae's casual claim of victory.
"I'm saying—I won, right?"
Those frozen in place slowly started coming to their senses as Yeon Hwi-tae spoke clearly and boldly.
Then suddenly, a loud voice shouted from the side.
"Hey, you little brat! After ruining the biwu like that, what are you yapping about winning for?!"
…It was his father.
"The opponent was already down and unable to move. If I had continued attacking at that moment, that girl would've been a complete wreck."
Despite his logical reasoning, his father kept shouting furiously.
"You idiot, biwu isn't supposed to be like that in the first place! Who fights like that, huh?! You damned brat!"
Of course, most of the people here would probably agree that Yeon Hwi-tae had shown restraint by stopping his attack after subduing Kang Yun-hwa. But still, something about the whole situation didn't sit right. Even Yeon Chae-ho's anger toward his victorious son seemed understandable.
That's because, even if they weren't proper martial artists, they knew full well that what they had witnessed wasn't a normal biwu. They had expected a formal match, with each contestant assuming proper stances and exchanging techniques. Not a crude tackle followed by a swift takedown like a common street brawl.
But that was their perspective.
Yeon Hwi-tae had a rebuttal ready.
"This is how I attack, according to my martial arts. So in a match where we're testing strength, am I supposed to hold back just to accommodate the opponent's style?"
"You… You little—what kind of martial art is that? That's just thuggish street fighting!"
"And what's wrong with that?"
"...!"
His bold statement left everyone speechless.
"No matter how rough it may look, if you add internal energy to fighting techniques, train them thoroughly, and gain insight through real battle, that's martial arts, isn't it?"
"Ugh… my blood pressure…"
At how casually Yeon Hwi-tae defined mu-gong (martial arts), Yeon Chae-ho nearly burst a vein. But he couldn't find a clear way to refute him. After all, martial arts fundamentally consisted of internal energy, technique (forms), and philosophical theory.
'Still, that doesn't mean I can accept it.'
Elder Gi Hyeok-do of the Mount Hua Sect, unwilling to let this impudent boy have the last word, decided to step in with proper instruction.
"Young man. By your definition, your martial art is no different from that of the demonic sects or unorthodox paths. Martial arts aren't simply about being strong—they exist to train the body and mind, and to act in righteousness."
The crowd nodded in agreement at Gi Hyeok-do's dignified and righteous words.
"That's right. There's a reason traditional martial arts are considered proper."
"Indeed."
Yeon Hwi-tae's Argument (Continued)
Upon hearing Gi Hyeok-do's words, Yeon Hwi-tae straightened his posture and looked directly at the elder.
"Then, Elder Gi Hyeok-do of the Mount Hua Sect, may I ask you one question?"
"Hmm… Go ahead."
Though the remark bordered on arrogance rather than boldness, Gi Hyeok-do responded calmly and with dignity. His composed attitude, befitting a magnanimous master, drew admiration from the onlookers. But Yeon Hwi-tae paid them no mind and spoke.
"Decades ago, there was the Diamond Demon (Geumgang Akma), who learned orthodox martial arts and left a trail of infamy across the martial world. Then there's the current Demonic King of Righteousness (Sa-ui Gwaiwang), a former unorthodox sect member now known as a righteous hero. What, exactly, is the difference between the two?"
"...!"
"...!"
Everyone except Yeon Hwi-tae gasped audibly.
The Diamond Demon, Ban Song.
A disgrace to the orthodox world—and especially to Shaolin, still a dominant force to this day—Ban Song was a name so taboo that even mentioning it was forbidden.
Roughly eighty years ago, he had shown such talent at a young age that he was inducted into Shaolin's elite group, the 108 Arhats, in his early twenties. As a righteous and powerful martial artist, he received much attention and expectations from the orthodox sects.
That is, until his vile true nature was revealed.
His crimes, once uncovered, were too numerous to count—but the most infamous was that he had secretly practiced a forbidden demonic art and used it to gruesomely murder countless people.
The Original Blood Demon Art (Wonhyeol Magong).
A notorious demonic technique, it amplified the user's darkest traits through its practice. Though its power was overwhelming, learning it required unspeakably evil acts.
In modern terms, it would be akin to enhancing sociopathic tendencies.
Ban Song slaughtered countless martial artists and civilians, and even kidnapped and tortured those who got in his way. Despite committing such atrocities, he continued to pose as a virtuous disciple of the orthodox Shaolin, shocking the martial world when the truth came out.
If it hadn't been for the Shaolin abbot at the time—Bulseong—who exposed the truth, executed Ban Song, and then sealed the temple for ten years in penance, Shaolin might never have reclaimed its status as the pinnacle of martial virtue.
Ironically, a later investigation by the Martial Alliance revealed that the Origin Blood Demon Art actually originated from orthodox martial arts. Outrage and disbelief erupted—how could such an evil art stem from orthodoxy? But the explanation was surprisingly simple.
The original form of the technique had come from a Buddhist martial manuscript focused on exploring and overcoming human desires and emotions. Ban Song, however, misinterpreted the text, and his inherently evil tendencies were magnified. His long-standing hypocrisy and two-faced nature prevented anyone from seeing his true self in time.
In contrast, Byeok Yeomhwi—the Demonic King of Righteousness—stood at the opposite end.
Byeok Yeomhwi had risen from the lowest ranks of the unorthodox world, becoming the leader of the Black Evil Sect (Heuksa-bang), a back-alley gang of third-rate martial artists. Despite his origins, he became widely respected among the common people and even received tacit support from government officials.
Though he led a gang, he continuously honed his skills and eventually reached the state of Hwagyeong—a level of enlightenment—becoming one of the top 100 martial masters of his time. Rumor has it that his enlightenment stemmed from his deep understanding of righteousness and chivalry, and most believe it to be true.
Under his leadership, the Black Evil Sect became one of the five great unorthodox powers. He ruled his territory's underworld but strictly forbade human trafficking and predatory lending. He actively punished those who caused suffering among the people, earning him the nickname Demonic King of Righteousness, meaning "a strange but righteous king of the demonic path."
There's a well-known anecdote that reflects his beliefs: when someone once asked him why he didn't just join the orthodox sects if he was going to act so nobly, he replied:
"If the unorthodox disappear, others will simply take their place and suck the lifeblood from the people. I will remain where I am—to keep their suffering to a minimum."
There was no one present who didn't understand the underlying meaning in Yeon Hwi-tae's words just now. And yet, not a single person could offer a proper response to the statement, even though it openly exposed a major flaw in the orthodox sects. That was because he had struck the heart of the matter.
Gi Hyeok-do had said, "Martial arts are not merely about pursuing strength, but about cultivating the body and mind and practicing righteousness." In that statement, "merely pursuing strength" clearly implied the demonic sects, while "cultivating the body and mind and practicing righteousness" clearly referred to the orthodox ones.
But by pointing out real-world cases that contradicted this, Yeon Hwi-tae had highlighted the inconsistency in that statement.
"I... I need to say something in response..."
Yet, with the examples being actual historical facts, there was no ground to refute him. Ban Song—the Diamond Demon—belonged to the orthodox sects and learned traditional martial arts, yet twisted them into demonic techniques and committed atrocities. On the other hand, Byeok Yeomhwi—the Demonic King of Righteousness—learned unorthodox martial arts but still upheld righteous principles. Both cases directly undermined the premise of Gi Hyeok-do's argument.
Then, Yeon Hwi-tae delivered the final blow:
"So if someone learns orthodox martial arts, they're orthodox, and if they learn demonic martial arts, they're demonic? I'm sorry, but I believe that someone who learns orthodox martial arts yet treats lives cheaply and commits evil is a demon, and someone who learns unorthodox techniques but lives by the spirit of righteousness is truly orthodox."
"...!"
"...!"
A shocking and provocative statement—but with its flawless logic, no one could argue back.
Gi Hyeok-do closed his eyes in defeat, slipping into contemplation.
"…Have I been holding a prejudice about martial arts all this time? Had I forgotten the true essence of the orthodox path?"
That question soon began to ripple through the minds of those around him.
"What exactly is the difference between orthodox and unorthodox martial arts? If a technique looks vicious or bizarre, does that automatically make it demonic?"
But if you think about it, one of the Nine Great Sects—the Jeomchang Sect—has a secret sword art known as the Silent Death Sword Technique. It is said to be so practical and brutal that many consider it downright savage. Yet no one would call Jeomchang's ultimate martial art a demonic technique. No one dares question or offend one of the Nine Great Sects.
"Then is it demonic if one uses cowardly tactics like ambushes or tricks?"
That, too, can't be said definitively.
The Sichuan Tang Clan, one of the Five Great Families of the orthodox world, is the perfect example. Their martial arts center on poisons and concealed weapons—tools that most martial artists shudder to even think about. And yet, they remain a core pillar of the orthodox sects. Their martial arts can't simply be labeled unorthodox.
"So then, where does the distinction between orthodox and unorthodox truly come from?"
The realization began to dawn.
"The line between orthodoxy and heresy might have nothing to do with techniques at all. Maybe it's just the purity of one's internal energy. But even that isn't absolute. While the quality of one's energy might influence a person's nature, it's not everything… In the end, it's about the difference in a person's character and actions."
As he calmly murmured those words, a familiar, snarky whisper could be heard from a bit farther off—his young benefactor grumbling under his breath:
"So basically, it's just a matter of personality. Why the hell did he have to say it in such a pretentious, cringe-worthy way…?"