136 - Blue Dragon Rain Dance Society (6)

A week had passed, and the preliminary Cheongryong Martial Arts Tournament was officially underway. The martial arts stage where the fierce blood of warriors clashed. Among those there today was Jiwon Peak's Gyeon Dong, set on ascending to that place. The grandson of the Cabinet Chief, Haepagyeom Gyeon Gweol, and renowned troublemaker of the faction, he stood before the members with a determined expression not usually seen on his face. "I will be back!" Gyeon Dong's goatee twitched. Although the faction leaders were not involved in the preparations for the martial arts tournament and were deeply engrossed in their training, the members, with perhaps sullen faces, merely cheered on Gyeon Dong with smiles. "We look forward to your return!" "Leader! This time, we believe in you!" "Exactly! Make us proud to say you belong to Jiwon Peak!" Since the day of the martial arts competition with Mok Riwon, Gyeon Dong had undeniably changed. Rather than relying on tricks, he started showing kindness to others as his natural disposition, and those who witnessed it closely were these members—how could they reprimand him? Even excluding that aspect, it was true. Gyeon Dong truly strove to be a role model for the members in the faction's training, and he proved it on the first day of the martial arts competition. Gyeon Dong's nickname was no longer simply "blunt sword." "Indomitable Gyeon Dong!" "The unyielding man who never falls!" "Come on! You don't need to put on a show of support so excessively!" Gyeon Dong chuckled. His new nickname was "Indomitable Gyeon Dong." It was a moniker bestowed upon him for enduring until the end with his unique perseverance, no matter the enemy he faced. The reason for it was simple. It was because he had no dignity to call himself gold, and he lacked strength to be considered silver. Of course, Gyeon Dong didn't care. Whatever it may be, he thought it was better than being known as the blunt sword. Gyeon Dong quietly set a humble goal for himself. "I must make it to the round of 64 in the preliminaries!" The goal was the round of 64 in the preliminary round. Considering that only one hundred of the top participants would qualify for this prestigious Cheongryong Martial Arts Tournament, reaching the level of a first-rate warrior was the extent of his ambition. Well, with such a grand event, perhaps making it to the round of 16 would at least earn him some recognition. "Well then, best of luck!" The members shouted a farewell as he left for the competition ground. Gyeon Dong's expression turned sentimental. 'They support me so much!' It was touching, but this level of support was beyond touching. It was endearing how even those who followed him as the faction leader, knowing his shortcomings, loved him. "If I win today, I will definitely treat myself to a drink!" "Wow!!!" Gyeon Dong turned confidently and ascended to the martial arts stage. And Gyeon Dong's dream was shattered. "Jiwon Peak, please take care of the rest." Only then did his opponent for the day become clear, Yonbong Faction's Kwonryong, Ilwoon. He was a direct disciple of Taesanbukdu Soryim, a master of martial arts who transmitted the Golden Unbreakable Fist, unreachable even to Indomitable Gyeon Dong. Gyeon Dong looked back at the members with tears in his eyes. The members were speechless. "Begin!" The martial arts commenced. Bang! Gyeon Dong was knocked out with a single blow. The dream of Indomitable Gyeon Dong ended precisely in the round of 256 in the preliminary round. To him, even the round of 64 was too much. * That evening at the dining hall of Yonbong Faction's headquarters. The seated members once again began discussing the daytime martial arts events. "As time goes by, Jiwon Peak's complexion seems to be getting worse. It looked like he got along really well with the members!" "Oh? Seems like our cheerful Mok is quite popular!" "I admire anyone who makes the effort!" "Oh, I did witness Jiwon Peak training diligently quite often." Jegalsan chimed in to Mok Riwon's playful comment. Namgung Jincheon chuckled. "But still, he falls short as a top-tier leader." "That's why he doesn't have any friends." Namgung Jincheon glared at Jegalsan. Jegalsan grinned mischievously. Dang Hwa-seo let out a deep sigh and intervened to stop their banter. "This is not the time or place for that." With a stern remark, the two fell silent. Ilwoon chuckled and said, "Anyway, thank you for your congratulations. But you need not do this every time." "We do it because we want to, what's wrong with that?" "Still, you can't possibly do this every day, can you?" It was a modest statement masked with humility, but that wasn't the true sentiment. It hinted at the idea that if he kept winning, he would end up receiving congratulations every day. Except for Mok Riwon and Namgung Jincheon, the others in the group understood his underlying message. In the midst of this, Hyewon spoke up. "You have been training so diligently, haven't you?" Despite her innocent look, there seemed to be a hint of betrayal in Ilwoon's eyes. Ilwoon grinned awkwardly. "Even as the top disciple, I can't afford to be careless." "Are you neglecting your training and gallivanting around as the top disciple?" "No, that's not what I meant…" "Baekbong, that's enough. And isn't it the truth?" This time, Dang Hwa-seo intervened. No, it was not so much an intervention as it was a subtle reproach. Hyewon shot an accusatory glance at Dang Hwa-seo, but she remained silent. Ilwoon thought to himself that these were people who left no room for boredom and rose from his seat. "Huh? Are you leaving already?" "Yes, I plan to meditate a bit to prepare for the next martial arts session." "Ah, take care!" "Rest well, then." Ilwoon greeted them and turned away. The corridor outside the dining hall was silent. A while later, Ilwoon arrived at the veranda where Mok Riwon often sat, and indeed, as he had described, it was a place filled with a serene atmosphere. In the dark garden were wildflowers and a pond. The moonlight reflecting off the pond diffusely shimmered, inexplicably stirring an emotional resonance in his chest. -I find training under the moonlight to be so delightful. Perhaps he should try it here today. Reflecting on how this atmosphere might have aided Mok Riwon's rapid growth, Ilwoon sat down, closed his eyes after gazing at the scenery for a while. His thoughts drifted to the remaining matches in the preliminary stage, neither the Blood Formation nor the Fire Formation. 'The round of 32 is over.' As they needed to select a total of 28 participants, the matches only progressed up to the round of 32. In this format, the four individuals with the lowest standings were eliminated, but as Ilwoon was among the top ranks of the participants in the preliminary round, he had no concerns in that regard. It was nearly certain he would advance to the main round. The only variable was facing Hyeon Gong, the Fourth Leader, before the round of 32. Did it worry him? Ilwoon pondered and quickly replied within himself. 'I'd rather face him soon.' He wondered why he even participated in such a chaotic preliminary round. It was to prove himself. There was a sense of urgency and determination to not fall behind. And Seonryong was a man who, at least for Ilwoon, stood as a formidable obstacle. Looking back, that was it. In the past few years of the Yongbong Group's activities, there had not been a single instance where he had cleanly defeated Hyeon Gong. Most of the fights ended with Hyeon Gong withdrawing before exerting his full strength, and in this year's rare direct confrontation, he suffered a crushing defeat. 'It's frustrating.' He could do better. There were still many aspects of himself he had not yet shown. As his thoughts continued, his emotions boiled. Ilwoon clenched his fists tightly to suppress the surging emotions. "Amitabha." He released the tension. He stopped his thoughts and continued releasing. Before he knew it, he had joined his hands. Suppressing emotions and vitality, establishing peace of mind. With that, he began Qi Breath Technique. Saa― A golden aura enveloped Ilwoon with a clear light. If there was a form to the spreading sound of a bell, it would be similar to this. 'Leader.' Bulseong Wonmyeong, the Leader of the Thundering Star school and the current head of the Hyeon Sorim. Ilwoon recalled his words. -Empty your mind. This is why Sorim is powerful. Only by emptying out the dregs of emotions and the stained desires can a space for cultivation be created, so empty yourself and achieve selflessness. Ilwoon narrowed his forehead. 'It's not easy. I don't want to empty everything.' The thirst for victory, ego, anger. If he let go of these, he feared he might lose everything that made him a true martial artist. 'The central plain is too vast. It's too fierce. It's too distant.' Beyond Hyeon Gong was Namgung Jincheon. After him was Mok Riwon, followed by Sa Seong and The Sixth King. Were they the only ones? Turbulent times had come. Ma Ilseok had appeared, and in the southern lands, the Black Heretics still lurked. If he let go of such ambitions, how could he punish them? It was a bitter paradox. Sorim was known as the center of the White Dao, yet due to the identity of a Buddha's disciple, it discarded the desires that a true martial artist should hold. Nonetheless, as the thought of Taesanbukdu arose, one question lingered. 'Am I missing something?' The thought that he seemed to be missing something. Despite having the means to grasp all the qualities of a selfless and enlightened martial artist, not knowing how to do so. Since entering the Gango Murim, the dilemma that had always clung to him like a tag resurfaced, bewildering his mind once again. Swoo― The aura wavered. * The next day dawned. Ilwoon had not been able to prepare as much as he wanted due to the night spent in contemplation. No, his condition was worse than usual. On days like this, he hoped for a somewhat more manageable opponent to face, but it seemed the Buddha deemed a scourging was necessary. "It." The one who stepped up as his martial arts opponent was It from the Yangmu Hakgwan. A name Dang Hwa-seo had heard about. Clearly the top position holder of this year's academy. He exuded an aura of firm determination. "Ilwoon." Ilwoon gestured respect. The judge raised his hand. "Begin!" It was a pity they couldn't exchange pleasantries for long due to the packed order of matches. It lunged with an ashen aura bursting forth. Ilwoon clenched his fist. The sturdy and tense fist was overlaid with a golden aura. Where should he aim. As a practitioner of high level, It would undoubtedly come with heavy attacks. The most logical deduction led to downward thrusts and swings. Even if It defended against attacks and lunged in, it would be fine to counter. ...The moment this thought occurred, It exploded an ash-grey aura and rushed in. An attack from below upward. The conjecture missed the mark. Ilwoon did not panic and swung his fist. Swish! His fist struck the edge of the axe, causing the trajectory to deflect. Ilwoon boldly followed up with an attack aided by Qi weaved through the doctrine, but It promptly sidestepped, familiar with such situations. 'I underestimated it.' Well, as someone dealing with superiors, It must have encountered many opponents faster than himself. Having a backup plan was only natural. 'But.' They were not the same as him. Ilwoon unleashed his aura and once again struck with his fist. It tried to block the fist with the axe face. No need to avoid damage. Swish! He struck the face directly. Without pausing, he extended another fist. Swish! It stepped back. Ilwoon had pressed him with his strength. Normally, this was not the way Ilwoon enjoyed fighting. It was because there weren't many instances where he was notably superior to his opponent in terms of strength. The reason he resorted to this style now was singular. Since entering the Meang, he had encountered alchemy and internal force often, enabling him to use this form of attack. There was no reason not to use it. Punches rained down in quick succession, and It could only block, unable to take any other action. As this pattern continued for a while, a loud clang rang out from It's axe. "Hup!" It's eyes widened, but Ilwoon paid it no mind. Swish! He channeled full power into the strike. The fist that shattered the axe slammed into the side of It's neck. "Guh...!" It's body staggered heavily. Then, It knelt down. Ilwoon withdrew his fist, caught his breath, and respectfully gestured. "It was a good match." He had won.