Tang Sowol steps onto the martial arena.

The generous folds of her green robe flutter lightly, and beneath her neatly tied-up hair, the pale nape of her neck gleams.

Only moments ago, the arena had reeked of sweat and tension, yet now it feels as though a flower has bloomed upon it, the entire atmosphere shifting.

I’m clearly not the only one who feels this way.

The crowd, who had been noisily gossiping about the previously inactive daughter of the Tang Clan, suddenly goes silent.

Amid that unnatural stillness, Tang Sowol scans the area and, spotting me, cheerfully waves her hand.

— Waaah!

Cheers erupt all around me.

Startled by the unexpected reaction, Tang Sowol giggles toward me, then calmly takes her place.

Watching her side profile, I hear Tang Jincheon beside me begin to chuckle.

“Hah, they’re all excited, not even knowing who Sowol waved to.”

“Indeed. If they thought for a second, they’d realize the truth.”

“Well, what can you do? Our Sowol’s beauty is enough to stir up a fuss.”

“As a fellow man, I have to admit we can be a bit simple at times.”

“I get that. Sowol waved to this father of hers, but look at the uproar.”

“Clearly, she waved to me, her fiancé. They’re just delusional.”

“???”

“..?”

As Tang Jincheon and I tilt our heads at each other in confusion, a low sigh sounds beside us.

“Ehuu… You two know that you’re wearing the exact same expression, right? Enough now, focus on the duel. Her opponent’s already arrived—it’ll begin any moment.”

Turning my gaze back to the arena, just as Seo Mun-Hwarin said, the opponent was already in place.

A large-framed middle-aged man holding a broad sword.

Though I can’t fully gauge his energy due to lingering internal injuries, his confidence in standing before Tang Sowol and revealing his fighting spirit suggests he's surpassed first-class and reached the Peak Stage.

I hadn’t heard of him before and assumed he wasn’t much, but his martial level is higher than I thought.

Maybe he’s an escort who specializes in bodyguarding and has simply remained unknown.

Of course, such details don’t seem to matter to Tang Sowol.

She turns to face me and mouths something clearly.

‘Please watch me.’

It must be a continuation of what she said days ago—she's not someone who only needs to be protected.

I nod deeply so she can see it clearly.

Soon, the referee steps up, says a few words, and the two exchange formal fist salutes.

With the sound of a bell signaling the start, they move at the same time.

Tang Sowol leaps backward, flinging concealed weapons from her sleeve.

The opponent, with his broad sword, charges in to chase her down.

Metal balls—Jamo-hwan—bounce off the ground and scatter in every direction, with thin Plume-needles hidden among them aiming for the opponent.

Clenching his teeth, he swings his sword with one hand while the other uses internal energy to flap his stiffened sleeve.

Kkagang!

He knocks aside the Jamo-hwan with his sword, blocks the Plume-needles with his clothes.

He doesn't completely stop them—several Plume-needles hit him, and a small Jamo struck his shin.

Still, for a defense under such pressure, it's not bad.

But Tang Sowol doesn't let up.

Whirr!

Her wide sleeves flutter as she spins in place.

The flowing motion intersects, releasing a barrage of concealed weapons.

What’s unusual is that these aren’t Tang Clan weapons, but ordinary copper coins.

Not coin-shaped darts, but actual currency. I glimpse short, broken strings in her hand—the kind used to bundle coins.

“Seems like a waste of money… Or maybe it’s worth every penny.”

Now that I think about it, Tang Clan’s concealed weapons are all complicated and costly to make.

Plume-needles are difficult to forge thin, Jamo-hwan require precision to bounce properly.

So throwing actual coins isn’t much of a loss. The Tang Clan certainly isn’t a penny-pinching family.

Though… this is a lot of money. Still.

The truly impressive part is elsewhere:

The sheer volume of coins flying out is incomparable to before.

Rather than flinging them individually between her fingers, she must have swung an entire bundle and snapped the string with internal energy at the right moment.

That would explain the volume.

Of course, the trade-off is that she loses the fine control you get with single-coin throws.

In fact, about 30% of the coins missed their mark.

But the impact was unexpectedly strong.

Perhaps thinking it would be similar to before, the opponent wrapped his body with his reinforced sleeve and sword—

But the fabric, despite being hardened with qi, was pierced in an instant,

And when his sword struck a coin, the coin’s recoil bent the blade’s tip.

In a panic, he infused blade qi into his sword, managing to shield his vital points just barely…But his body was battered and tattered all over.

Judging by his solid build, he didn’t slack on external body training, so no bones were broken,

But the pain made him grimace deeply.

Still, he hadn’t given up. His eyes locked on Tang Sowol with undiminished will.

Once again, he stomped forward.

His sleeves shredded, unable to block Plume-needles. His sword alone couldn’t fend off all the weapons.

Dodging them wasn’t easy due to his bulk, and if he hesitated, he’d be bombarded by coins again.

So he chose to charge straight ahead.

Holding his sword upright to guard his centerline, he ignored minor defenses and dodging.

Since backward movement is always slower than advancing, it wasn’t a bad strategy.

Focusing solely on closing the distance, he built up explosive speed.

Tat-tat!

However, Tang Clan’s movement techniques were a level above.

Tang Sowol’s steps were light, and though graceful, she widened the gap effortlessly.

Her movement art, tailored for adjusting distance while deploying poison and hidden weapons, allowed her to maintain high speed even while retreating.

As she widened the gap again, she resumed launching concealed weapons.

Since sharp-edged ones were unusable now, most were needle or pellet-type,

But each followed unique trajectories, suited to its type.

They didn’t strike pressure points precisely, but they caused pain with every movement,

And the areas hit by the steel balls were swelling to the point of immobility.

The match wasn’t ending quickly, but like clothes soaking in the rain, damage accumulated little by little.

It was a methodical but clever fighting style.

I was quietly impressed by how skillfully she wielded hidden weapons—

When, noticing my expression, Tang Jincheon gave me a mischievous grin.

“Looks like you’re a bit surprised, son-in-law.”

“Yes. Honestly, I didn’t expect this much from Tang Sowol.”

“Why? Thought she only focused on poison arts?”

“To be honest… yes.”

It’s not that Tang Sowol lacked hidden weapon skills—but compared to her poison arts, they were clearly secondary.

She typically used them to support her poison:

Spreading poison via Soul-Chasing Flying Butterflies, or using difficult-to-avoid weapons to inject poison directly.

That’s how she fought, even when sparring with me.

And her recent mastery of the Universal Convergence Divine Art—a supreme poison technique—

Just learning that one art would be exhausting. I assumed she had no room to focus elsewhere.

Plus, she reached the Peak Stage after mastering it, so it was natural to think poison was her focus.

“But to be clear,” said Tang Jincheon, “Sowol has been focusing on poison arts.”

“Then…?”

“What you’re seeing now is what she accomplished with the spare time left over from studying poison.”

“…Excuse me?”

I turned from the arena to look at him in disbelief, but I’d heard correctly.

“It’s true. Sowol is much stronger than you think.”

“I’ve never thought she was weak.”

“Of course not. But you are far too strong, and you’ve become very familiar with the Tang Clan’s martial arts.”

“Ah.”

His words made me realize—

I had grown far too used to Tang Sowol’s martial arts.

From before the regression, we’d matched rhythms.

After regression, we’d sparred countless times, even from her lower-stage days.

And I always fought by disrupting my opponent’s flow.

Given how well I understood her style, cutting her rhythm must have prevented her from displaying her full strength.

Even Tang Cheong, the Dark Dragon, found it hard to land his hidden weapons on me—

So she probably thought there was no point in showing off her comparatively weaker skills.

Her poison, on the other hand, could still affect me meaningfully.

“Also,” added Tang Jincheon, “once you reach the Peak Stage, you can finally embed internal energy into thrown weapons. That’s when hidden weapon techniques evolve dramatically.”

“That makes sense.”

At first-class level, one can already channel qi into held weapons through energized weapon infusion.

That’s how the opponent reinforced his sleeves earlier.

But that only applies to weapons in hand, or in direct contact with the body.

Maintaining internal energy in something detached—like a thrown weapon—is much harder.

Unless done at the moment of throw, the energy disperses quickly.

To do it stably, you need to be at Peak Stage or higher.

That’s why even unorthodox sects, who don’t care much for honor, rarely rely on hidden weapons—They can’t make full use of internal energy.

So in all of Central Plains, only two places truly train in hidden weapons:

The Sichuan Tang Clan, and Sal Valley.

Sal Valley teaches them for practical assassination, treating their assassins as expendables.

Only the Tang Clan properly studies and passes down hidden weapon techniques.

And now, those very techniques were finally showing their true power in Tang Sowol’s hands.

The hidden weapons flew relentlessly. Even if blocked, more followed in rapid succession.

Eventually, the opponent, battered and full of needles, raised both hands in surrender.

After saluting the defeated martial artist, Tang Sowol bounced over in my direction and shouted loudly:

“Brother Cheon! I won! Did you see?!”

I watched her bouncing form—along with certain other things that bounced—and waved back with a grin.

Then turned toward Tang Jincheon, who looked absolutely crushed.

“Told you.”

She really was waving at me.