The Duel Of the Phoenix (2) - Martial Arts Masochist

Mu Wol Sa Tae gazed at Cheongwol and Tang So Ran standing on the stage set for the martial arts competition. It was an impressive stage, even in her eyes—the stage where two beautiful women prepared for their martial showdown. Their skills were certainly impressive, but so was their appearance, which would have drawn a sea of spectators had it been held in a larger city. Yet, Mu Wol Sa Tae's heart was a tumult of emotions. It filled her with pride that the once-young girl now excited the people of the martial world, but she was also aware of the hardships Cheongwol endured in the process. The horrific scenes she had witnessed on Mount Emei couldn't be erased from her memory. The moment when the deep demonic qi within Cheongwol briefly surfaced was unforgettable. Moreover, just days ago, Cheongwol had expressed she had no desire to engage in a martial duel. "..." She still couldn't discern what the right choice was. Mu Wol Sa Tae only hoped that Cheongwol would learn and grow through her matches. She wished for Cheongwol to gain insight from her duel with Dok Bong. It wasn't acceptable to simply leave her burdened with demonic qi alone. What if letting her handle it herself caused further ruin? Ultimately, everything was a matter of hindsight—knowing what was right or wrong was even more challenging. "...Haa." Her sigh of worry caught the attention of the head of the Sichuan Tang Clan, Dok Wang, Tang Jeok Cheon. He inquired, "You seem troubled." Mu Wol Sa Tae responded with a faint smile. Tang Jeok Cheon continued, "Please, try not to worry so much. I've only given So Ran the poison suitable for the match." “That’s not it, Gaju.” “...Then?” Mu Wol Sa Tae glanced at Tang Jeok Cheon. Their connection had endured for a long time, fostered by geographical proximity and mutual recognition as martial arts masters from youth. When Mu Wol Sa Tae first met Tang Jeok Cheon, she was barely an adult, while he was still a young child. Now, after all those years, he was one of the few she could consider a friend. Mu Wol Sa Tae spoke to her old friend. In the distance, So Ran, flanked by those around her, seemed to serve as their buffer. "I've heard rumors that So Ran is suffering from demonic qi." Tang Jeok Cheon blinked, his gaze shifting to his daughter. He seemed momentarily taken aback by the sudden change of topic. Yet, he leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice. The humor vanished from his face, leaving behind a one-eyed martial master with a stern expression. "Whether it's the Haomen or the Gaebang, or our own family members... it seems that rumors travel far." He paused. "Could I ask what led you to believe it's demonic qi?” “...Hmm.” Tang Jeok Cheon watched his daughter, Tang So Ran, who was waving cheerfully and mentioned, "She lacks energy." Mu Wol Sa Tae could sense that the issue was more serious than it appeared. Tang Jeok Cheon's gaze settled on Tang So Ran, who was actively greeting people. “...Even if she seems fine now, I can't recall the last time I saw her like this.” “...” “At home, she refuses to do anything—no training, no meditation... Not even walks or meals. She stays cooped up in her room.” “...Is that so?” "Only when Yeop is nearby does she show a livelier expression. With me, Jiwoon, or her other siblings, she stays silent. Don’t misunderstand. Despite how I look, I've given her everything she could want. She lacks nothing." "I’m not misunderstanding. Everyone knows that the Gaju loves his daughter dearly." "Anyhow... Sometimes, I overhear her quietly crying when passing by her room." "Does she cry?" "She does. As the eldest, she always tried to be dignified for her siblings... and yet..." Tang Jeok Cheon's expression turned awkward. "...She sobs for quite some time. When I go in to comfort her, she just brushes it off, saying she's fine. I’m at a loss for what to do. This has been going on for a year, more or less since the Golden Phoenix Gathering. When she decided to come to Mount Emei this time, it was at least a relief. It might be thanks to Lady Cheongwol." "..." "But why is this being brought up...?" Just as Tang Jeok Cheon was taking in his daughter, Mu Wol Sa Tae’s gaze was transfixed on Cheongwol. "...Wol herself is struggling with demonic qi." Tang Jeok Cheon's eyes widened. "...What?" "A violent form of demonic qi. I witnessed it firsthand." Tang Jeok Cheon's voice turned to a whisper after a moment of hesitation. "...Then the twenty corpses found at the southern ridge of Mount Emei..." "Did you know?” “Haomen and Gaebang are aware as well. Given its location at Mount Emei, it piqued their interest.” Mu Wol Sa Tae let out a long sigh. Knowing that rumors were spreading weighed heavily on her heart. Tang Jeok Cheon tried to lighten the mood with his characteristic humor. "...The leader should have taken care of it immediately upon discovery." Mu Wol Sa Tae met Tang Jeok Cheon's jest with a gentle smile. "...The scene was too horrific to remedy quickly." "...Hmm." Tang Jeok Cheon ceased his jokes. “It’s truly challenging when there’s no clear solution. Injuries are easier to handle in retrospect. Demonic qi cannot be treated... If there were a way, I would offer a fortune to anyone who could help So Ran.” Mu Wol Sa Tae chuckled softly. "...And would you plead for help, Dok Wang?” "What wouldn’t I do for my daughter? Isn’t it the same for you, Sa Tae?” Mu Wol Sa Tae pondered momentarily before nodding. “...Of course.” After all, what wouldn't she do for Cheongwol? It was something she couldn't voice to the other disciples of the Emei Sect, but Cheongwol held a special place in her heart. Not just because of her outstanding skills or her potential to elevate the Emei Sect’s stature. From their first meeting until now, despite knowing her own failings, Mu Wol Sa Tae loved Cheongwol as if she were her own daughter. "...They will both overcome this," Dok Wang finally remarked. Mu Wol Sa Tae nodded, hoping his words would come true. "Yes." Just then, Cheongwol took a deep breath and looked at Mu Wol Sa Tae. '...?' Mu Wol Sa Tae was taken aback by her expression. It was firm, without a hint of hesitation—completely different from their conversation just days ago. Cheongwol was unmistakably ready as she took her stance and declared, "I'm ready." Tang Jeok Cheon tilted his head to the side. “...Looking at her, it’s hard to imagine she’s struggling with demonic qi.” No, that wasn’t it. Mu Wol Sa Tae felt it. She was almost embarrassed by how much she had lamented to Dok Wang because something had certainly changed. Just like before, when there was a brief glimpse of brilliance in her swordsmanship, there had been some significant development in Cheongwol. **** As So Woon announced the start of the match and stepped back, the opening stance of the form commenced. Cheongwol went first. Her posture was elegant and calm, drawing exclamations of admiration from all around. Even to my untrained eyes, it appeared impressive. “...Ah, she truly is Lady Cheongwol,” Gwakdu Ajusshi murmured beside me. “It's no wonder she's called the hope of the Emei Sect.” For someone involved in the martial world like Ajusshi, there must have been something profoundly moving in that form. Out of curiosity, I asked, “...What sword style is that?” "Huh? It's the Soyang Sword Style, of course." ...Right? Not the Myeoljeol Sword? Next was Tang So Ran. People scattered admires her form too. As someone watching a martial competition live for the first time, I didn't find it particularly moving. If anything, I was astonished by the fact that such a stunning woman was skilled with hidden weapons and poison. That was the extent of my impression. “Anyway, Seo Jin, I thought you weren’t interested in things like this,” Gwakdu Ajusshi pointed out. “...Well, call it a change of heart.” I might not like it, but I still need to be aware of my future. “Once you get hooked from today, you'll be wondering how you'd live in a boring world without this,” chimed in Guyeong Ajusshi. “Let it be, hyung. Seo Jin prefers his basement. He's a man's man.” What's with the talk about masculinity now? “Huh?” “Nothing, kid. But with Lady Tang So Ran, she doesn’t seem to be afflicted with demonic qi...” “...The Sichuan Branch assured it, so we have to believe them.” “I trust my own eyes. Did you forget how spirited Lady So Ran was yesterday, being kind to everyone?” “Quiet. It's starting.” At that moment, Cheongwol looked in our direction. "The lady looked our way!" People around us burst into joy, basking in Cheongwol’s attention like moths to a flame. Meanwhile, I felt nothing but anxiety. If things crumbled, please don’t let them completely fall apart. Tang So Ran spoke up. Her voice echoed loudly across the now-silent stage. “You may take the first move—” “—Then.” -BOOM! With a thunderous noise, Cheongwol's form vanished in an instant. Tang So Ran, taken aback in the middle of her sentence, quickly assumed her stance. Her body similarly disappeared from my sight. I had witnessed Cheongwol slaughtering people on Mount Emei, but at the time, I mostly hid in a tree with my eyes shut and ears covered. The dark mountain made it hard to see, but witnessing it clearly now made the realization all the more shocking. A human body can truly vanish from sight with such speed. Their figures flickered in and out of existence repeatedly. Beside me, the ajusshis seemed to spot something and let out constant exclamations—“Oh-ho,” “Wow,” “Hoo-ha.” The only thing I could grasp was the snatches of their conversation. “—cowardly! Interrupting my—” “You speak of cowardice when—requested a match for—chances—serious—” Even that was barely audible. Their voices were drowned out by the crowd’s exclamations, the clashing sounds, and the noise of the wind, splintering and disappearing. “Seo Jin, how is it? Isn’t it fun?” Gwakdu Ajusshi, rare in his excitement, shook my shoulder. “...Yes.” There's nothing to see, so there’s no fun to be had. I reaffirmed that deciding against becoming a martial artist was indeed the best choice I've ever made. **** It was impossible to tell how many exchanges had occurred. As the match progressed, the audience’s silence deepened. The desperation emanating from the two fighters seemed to freeze them in place. Cheongwol herself couldn’t believe it. She never imagined she’d push herself this hard. In this duel, where she hadn’t even found a reason yet for why she must do this... she was pouring her everything into it. She approached the match with the mindset that being hit meant losing. She constantly surrounded herself with an explosive aura. Though lacking the intention to kill, the duel grew increasingly vicious. Poisoned needles whizzed past her eyes. Each needle was colored differently, each carrying ominous forebodings of a distinct death. Yet, she couldn’t avoid them all. One needle had pierced her shoulder, another her thigh. The tingling sensation traveling through her nervous system persisted. Still, she was doing her utmost not to allow the poison to spread, utilizing her inner energy to contain it. It was a suffocating feeling—not from the poison. Whenever she wielded her sword and deflected her opponent’s attacks to counter with finesse, the Soyang Sword Style felt like clothes that refused to fit her properly. She knew. The Soyang Sword was not hers. Despite having trained for a long time, she had only reached the fifth stage. People praised her, claiming even that was impressive... yet the frustration remained. On the other hand, the Myeoljeol Sword was a perfect fit for her. Tyrannical, brutal, and focused solely on killing. Despite secretly practicing it, she had already reached the sixth stage. ...If she used the Myeoljeol Sword, she even began to feel confident she could defeat Tang So Ran. Each time Cheongwol wielded the Soyang Sword, it felt like wearing uncomfortable clothes. Moving in clothes that didn’t fit properly. ...Uncomfortable clothes? A humiliating memory swept through her mind, causing Cheongwol to unintentionally chuckle softly to herself. "You’re still able to laugh," Tang So Ran remarked from the opposite side as she caught her breath. "...Strange. You don't seem like you have the luxury for that," Tang So Ran remarked as they both paused briefly from their movements. Cheongwol felt her stomach churn, placing a hand over her mouth to stifle the nausea. It was an ungraceful sight she didn’t want to show others. Tang So Ran shook her head slightly. "...It's strange. You feel so different from before." "Is that so?" "You throw yourself into the heart of my techniques to respond. Where’d you learn such recklessness? It’s not the basic posture of Soyang Sword." “Wouldn’t I know best what the Soyang Sword entails?” "Have you forgotten my nickname? I, too, have a bit of experience—enough to know when you're lying." "..." "And it's easier said than done. To attack through hidden weapons that would bring anyone to their knees just by brushing them—what happened?" “You seem taken aback that things didn’t unfold as simply as you anticipated.” Cheongwol said nothing. She merely lifted her gaze to look Tang So Ran straight in the eye. Tang So Ran smiled. “...It's astonishing to see such prowess in a junior.” Then she looked Cheongwol up and down and spoke softly. “Wol Ah. It’s just a match. Don’t overstrain and give up appropriately. Building up poison in your body isn’t good.” “If you thought so, you shouldn’t have suggested the match in the first place.” “Still, you’re the only one I’m interested in. Can’t you see it positively? I wanted to witness your transformation.” “...Why do you take an interest in me?” As Cheongwol's words cut through the air, a chilly silence enveloped them. Tang So Ran didn't answer immediately. The spectators watched with keen interest at the sudden pause in their match. Cheongwol was puzzled for a moment. How difficult a question was that? After a prolonged pause, Tang So Ran, deep in thought, furrowing her brow, finally cast a gentle look towards Cheongwol. She spoke. “...Because we’re the same kind.” That wasn’t the answer Cheongwol expected. "Pardon?" “...That’s why I’m curious about your choices.”