33 - Dragon Phoenix Assembly (6) - The Heaven-Slaying Sword

Anhui was blazing hot. The fervor of the main tournament’s first day continued unabated throughout the group stage. Now, the town of Seohyeon was abuzz with tales of the day’s duels wherever one went. It couldn’t be helped. This year’s Yongbong Assembly was shaking the established order of the Yongbong rankings, which had been fixed for many years. First to break the silence of six years was Poison Phoenix (독봉). She had reached the group finals, showcasing martial prowess befitting her reputation as the successor of the Sachondang clan. Her opponent was none other than Baek Bong Hye Woon, exactly as everyone had predicted. With their showdown just four days away, some were already wagering on the outcome. “Still, it’s got to be Poison Phoenix! Have you already forgotten what happened six years ago? No one lasted more than three seconds against her on her way to the finals!” “But back then, Baek Bong was in a different group! And even to Poison Phoenix, Sword Dragon was a challenge of three seconds!” “Sword Dragon is an exception! Besides, isn’t Baek Bong the one she’s facing in the finals this time? I’m betting on Poison Phoenix. I just can’t see her losing.” “Hmm, I’m betting on Baek Bong. I don’t know what Poison Phoenix has been up to for six years, but Baek Bong has been consistently proving her martial prowess all this time. It seems more justifiable.” Wagering was rife elsewhere too. This time on the outcome involving the Strange Dragon Jegal San, Fist Dragon Il Woon, and Immortal Dragon Hyun Gong from group Yi. “It’s got to be Fist Dragon! He’s a talent that comes once in a hundred years from Shaolin! Who else could make it to the top four?” “What are you talking about! Have you ever seen Immortal Dragon frown in the ring? Even facing Namgung Jincheon, he kept his composure! No doubt, the winner of group Yi is Immortal Dragon.” “Fist Dragon!” “Immortal Dragon!” It might be funny to note that no one was betting on Jegal San’s victory. Despite an unprecedented concentration of dragons in one group, Yi group’s semi-finals tomorrow were already labeled ‘the group of death’ and had become a hot topic. Yet, surpassing such interests were two individuals, talked about more than any other. Needless to say, Sword Dragon Namgung Jincheon and Ink Sword Mok Riwon. “…Indeed, Sword Dragon is true to his reputation. He has never swung his sword more than once in any duel. Sword Dragon is certain to win in group Il.” “Ink Sword is impressive too. He, seemingly not wanting to be outdone by Sword Dragon, ended all his fights within a second.” There was no disagreement here. Even though the group finals were not yet over, all warriors watching the matches were confident in these two’s progression to the semi-finals. Sword Dragon’s victory needed no further discussion, and the same went for Mok Riwon. On the first day of the main tournament, he had provocatively challenged Namgung Jincheon, proving his arrogance with skill. By performing the feat of breaking his opponent’s sword in the first second, which all had dismissed as a fantastical trick. “…In essence, the winners of groups Il and Sa have already been decided.” “There’s also talk that Ink Sword might surpass the other Yongbongs and reach the finals.” It was an unbelievable turn of events. For a warrior, who had only recently emerged in the martial world, to receive such acclaim. Nevertheless, Mok Riwon was receiving that acclaim. This was the Central Plains martial world, where one proves oneself with their sword. And Mok Riwon had finished proving himself with his sword. “If these two meet, that will be the finals.” “Exactly. Group Il and San will face off, and Yi and Sa will battle it out in the semi-finals.” “Sword Dragon will naturally make it to the finals, and Ink Sword, against the winner of group Yi, will have to prove who is superior.” Silence enveloped the guesthouse. Was the man known as Ink Sword truly the dragon who could break through the 'group of death' and confront the other? That was the question of the hour. “If the winner from group Yi is Fist Dragon, I’d bet on him.” “I’d bet on Immortal Dragon if he comes out on top.” “I’ll bet on Ink Sword.” “Hmm?” “Somehow, I have a feeling. That he’ll earn a new title as a dragon in this Yongbong Assembly.” Two men laughed at another’s words. However, it wasn’t laughter in mockery. “That would be a delightful twist. Always expect the unexpected in the martial world.” The three men raised their cups. “Well, you know.” The man who had previously bet on Dang Hwa-Seo and Il Woon’s victory said. Another man laughed in response. “Yes, ultimately, Sword Dragon will win.” Clack-. Their cups clinked. A new star had risen in the martial world of Baekdo, yet, some truths remained unchanged. Sword Dragon Namgung Jincheon. He was the master of this generation. On a night in Seohyeon, three men in a guesthouse looked forward to the upcoming matches over their drinks. * “Mok-awu, did you hear?” “Hm? Hear what?” “You’ve been given a new title.” “Oh!!!” In a guesthouse not too far from the academy, Mok Riwon, who had been making do with noodles and bamboo leaf liquor for his meals, shot up. Dang Hwa-Seo was similarly intrigued, hearing that a new title had been attached to him even before the group matches had concluded. “That was quick. So, what’s the title?” “They’re calling you the Jade-Faced Sword.” “…” Mok Riwon stiffened. Her expression too was frozen in shock. "...Huh?" "Jade-Faced Sword, I'm talking about the Jade-Faced Sword. They say even the sight of you sighing after a match is like a painting." Mok Riwon's Adam's apple bobbed significantly. Irritation surged across his face. Bang-! "I, I don't like such a nickname!" As Mok Riwon slammed his hands down on the table, Jegal San burst into laughter, twisting his body, while Dang Hwa-Seo rubbed her forehead, as if she had expected as much. "Mok Sohyeop, Jegal is just joking with you. Even if such talk is going around, no one really thinks of it as a nickname. They just know it as a moniker." "But still...!" "Still?" Dang Hwa-Seo glared at Mok Riwon with cold eyes. Mok Riwon shivered with a sense of injustice but couldn't retort. He was afraid of nagging. 'So merciless!' A surge of resentment flooded him, knowing she wouldn’t understand his sensitivity toward such a demeaning nickname. His eyes naturally shot her a glare, but it was still Mok Riwon's face. "Indeed! The Jade-Faced Sword's sulky face is indeed one of a kind!" "Jegal Hyung!" "Ahaha... Sorry!" Slap-! "Ow!" "Great job getting older and only good at teasing your junior." Fortunately, Dang Hwa-Seo intervened to stop Jegal San's mischief. With an annoyed face, she sighed deeply and snatched away Mok Riwon's bamboo leaf liquor to drink. "Ah, that's..." "I bought it with my own money." "..." Mok Riwon shrank back, but Dang Hwa-Seo was too irritated to care. Her annoyance was plain to see. 'Jade-Faced Sword my foot.' No wonder the women's screams were especially loud whenever Mok Riwon competed, likely fueling such rumors behind his back. Feeling the urge to drink in her irritation, Dang Hwa-Seo couldn't help but resent her family lineage even in such moments. 'Damn, the impervious to all poisons.' Even the effect of alcohol was detoxified instantly. Thump-! "...I'm sorry. I'm just feeling suffocated." "No, I... I'm sorry. It's not your fault I got such a nickname..." Mok Riwon cautiously watched Dang Hwa-Seo as he held the reclaimed bamboo leaf liquor tightly in his hands. Even in doing so, his eyes rolling around were exceptionally clear, and his eyelashes that drooped as he looked down were neatly aligned. Dang Hwa-Seo felt her heart skip a beat at that sight. He was dangerously attractive. "...Mok Sohyeop. Out of concern, if an unfamiliar woman approaches and praises your martial arts, please make sure to avoid her." "Hm? Understand." "Yes. You know how dangerous the martial world is. You might ignore the elderly and children, but you must be careful around women." Her worry was not slight. With such a soft personality, the thought of him being humiliated by women with ulterior motives was hard to shake. Indeed, hadn't there already been precedence? 'Baek Bong...!' Her final opponent, Baek Bong. Dang Hwa-Seo was keenly aware. That she had been keenly observing and laughing at both her and Mok Riwon during the martial arts meetings. Grind-. Dang Hwa-Seo ground her teeth. 'Filthy tramp.' She resolved not to let Mok Riwon end up with anyone else, even if she were buried six feet under. Holding on to this thought, Dang Hwa-Seo reignited her fighting spirit. Of course, Mok Riwon and Jegal San, unaware of her inner turmoil, were simply terrified of her. * Time passed, and the next day arrived. The arena now bore a heat unlike before. It was the semi-finals of the group called 'the death group.' Because it featured the duel between the Strange Dragon and the Fist Dragon. Given it was essentially the last match before the group finals, the spectators' anticipation was sky-high. "Monk, please go easy." "Amitabha." In the midst of the buzz, Il Woon clasped his hands together, chanting a prayer and calming his breath. Jegal San felt an inexplicable sense of unease observing Il Woon's demeanor. "Jegal Hyung! You can do it!!!" Mok Riwon was cheering from afar, but sadly, it didn’t seem to be much help. [Let's begin! Strange Dragon Jegal San! Fist Dragon Il Woon!] The announcer raised his hand. Jegal San pulled a jade stone from his pocket, rolling it in his hand to unfurl his inner energy. In an instant. Bang-! Il Woon, swift as a streak of light, aimed a punch at Jegal San's foot. Jegal San quickly dodged the punch, but his face had turned as white as a sheet in the process. "What, what power..." "Amitabha." The floor of the arena cracked. Despite the material not being easily crumbled, the ground was finely crushed into pebbles where Il Woon withdrew his fist. "Monk...?" "Amitabha." Il Woon smiled softly. "Wooooooo!!!" The audience added their cheers to Il Woon's fist technique. It was then Jegal San felt it. 'This...' He might well bid farewell to this life if he wasn’t careful. "Amitabha." Jegal San looked at Il Woon with creaking bones. The chilly demeanor in Il Woon's eyes, still muttering "Amitabha," was unmistakable. Indeed. He hadn't given up on silencing Jegal San yet. By this point, you'd think trust and letting go would suffice, but unfortunately, Jegal San's habitual behavior was too frivolous. Il Woon came up with a plan. Unable to open the gateways of killing, he decided to demonstrate an overwhelming contrast in martial prowess, instilling deep fear into Jegal San's heart. "Amitabha." Jegal San made his decision quickly. "I surrender..." Bang-! "...I surrender! I surrender! I SURRENDERRRR!!!" Jegal San fled in terror. Only then did Il Woon smile contentedly and clasped his hands together once more, while the spectators all tilted their heads at the anticlimactic match. "...What was that?" A man who had once predicted in a tavern that Fist Dragon would make it to the semi-finals was now caught in a peculiar mix of emotions, unsure whether to feel happy or sad. * That same night. As Mok Riwon returned to his lodging after completing his training, he hummed a merry tune, reflecting on the day's events. 'Il Woon Suseung, truly incredible.' Though the match ended quickly with Jegal San's swift surrender, Mok Riwon was still able to discern the depth of martial skills behind Il Woon's fist. 'It must be one of Shaolin's 72 Arts, the Golden Sand Palm.' Even though it was a fist technique, not a palm technique, it was clear the source of the power that shattered the arena floor came from the Golden Sand Palm. Especially since not a hint of internal energy was felt from his punch. 'So it’s possible to achieve that with external martial arts as well.' His excitement grew. Mok Riwon felt his heart racing with anticipation at what could happen if internal energy were also injected into that punch. Naturally, he was hoping Il Woon would be his next opponent. In two days, his own group finals. Then, next week, the semi-finals where the winners of each group would compete. As Mok Riwon walked along, a mix of impatience and excitement causing a pleasant tremble. "Oh my, isn't this Lord Mok?" A woman's voice wormed into Mok Riwon’s ears. Shiver-. Goosebumps sprouted all over his body, and his fingertips trembled. Turning his head with creaking reluctance, the figure he saw was— "What a startling coincidence, isn’t it?" It was Baek Bong Hye Woon, smiling sweetly at him. "Yikes!" Under the dark night, with even the moon hiding behind clouds, Mok Riwon jumped as if he had seen a ghost at the sight of the vaguely looming figure of Hye Woon.