140 - Blue Dragon Rain Dance Society (10)

The contest had ended in a mere moment. That was the cause of chaos. "People saying it doesn’t make sense! He must have used some kind of sorcery, definitely!" These exclamations sprang up from everywhere in the crowd. It was the opening match of the Blue Dragon Martial Contest, and the way the match ended so anticlimactically fueled a sense of emptiness and anger among the spectators, resonating with a fair share of them. Indeed, it was an unbelievable occurrence. It had only been a few months since rumors claimed Mok Riwon had reached the pinnacle of his skills. Meanwhile, Fire Sword of the Hwasan sect had been acknowledged as a supreme martial artist for over three years. In terms of ranking, Fire Sword was undeniably superior, and the expectation had been that, regardless of the outcome, the battle would involve a fierce competition. The result, therefore, seemed all too strange. Rumors began to spread, their speed surpassing even that of a swift swordsman given the heated atmosphere centered around today's opening match. Then, exactly as night was falling on that day, supreme martial artists stepped forward to counter the claims. "Everything unknown to you is sorcery, then? That's why your understanding is limited!" It was a supreme martial artist participating in the contest who shouted in the middle of the inn. A counter-voice emerged. "Then, what are you saying! If it’s not sorcery, how could he defeat Fire Sword in one move!" "Because he had no other choice!" Bang! A supreme martial artist slammed the table, and the inn fell silent. However, it wasn’t out of fear. A different question overshadowed their fear in the minds of those present. "Their expressions…" The angered martial artist indeed wore a face laden with frustration, reminiscent of defeat. "It was that move! It was... it was...!" The martial artist’s expression crumbled. The man who had first countered him swallowed dryly. 'What did they see in that move...' What had they seen in that one move to evoke such a deep sense of defeat? The thought emerged and vanished. It was intentionally pushed out of mind. 'Maybe.' Not understanding might be a blessing. The man's sense of defeat, despair, and whatever gap he felt—all seemed like a path leading directly to a mental demon. 'To think there'd come a day I’d be grateful for my lower level.' The man chuckled to himself. The atmosphere in the inn had calmed down. And similar scenes unfolded in various inns across the region. The rumor that Mok Riwon had used sorcery. Just like how it had spread in a single day, it faded just as quickly, and the one to put the final nail in the coffin was none other than Fire Sword himself. "The greatest in history. Perhaps, I am standing at the crossroads of that history." It was said, by someone who heard him say these words up close, that Fire Sword looked as if he was walking in a dream. * "What a mess this is." The next day, at the Yongbong Group’s dining area. Jegal San sat with an exhausted face, across him Hyewon was burying her head on the table, looking defeated. "I'm dying. How can people be flooding in like this?" "It’s all because Mok Ri has done too well for himself." Jegal San chuckled. The reason for their drained state wasn’t anything else but a continuation of the incident at the Yongbong branch gathering. "Is there anyone in the world who receives as many engagement proposals as Master Mok?" It was those damned engagement proposals. Although belonging to the league, the Yongbong Group was an organization expected to disband within a few years. Naturally, once that happened, Mok Riwon would be a free man, and thus, martial families from all regions had sent engagement proposals, hoping to capture his attention. The chaos was even greater than during the Yongbong branch meeting, incomparably so. It made sense. The martial world now had even more reasons to seek out Mok Riwon. "But, Monk Hyewon." "Yes?" "Do you understand the sword technique Mok Ri used?" "How would I know? Even the supreme martial artists are wrapping their heads around it, failing to understand." "They say it's the third form of the Myriad Bonds Sword Technique, but I just can’t grasp it." Myriad Bonds Sword Technique. It was the name of the sword technique Mok Riwon was creating as he stepped into the role of a great master, and it was currently the hottest topic in the martial world. Despite being created by a mere 18-year-old, its profundity was seen as unmatched, believed to be wieldable by no one else but him. Everyone desired the seed of that sword and its wielder, Mok Riwon. Would you believe that in just one night, owners of martial families who wished to meet Mok Riwon reached a hundred? What Jegal San saw in their eyes was madness, and their words were filled with pleading. "My daughter is the greatest beauty of Soju! She’s skilled and young too! Please, just consider having a talk!" "My daughter as well! She is from Gangseo! Sharing the same region as the great hero Mok, they would get along!" Could greed be so chillingly dazzling? Unlike other members who immediately had tasks to attend to, Jegal San and Hyewon, having been free, were on the verge of collapsing after dealing with the incessant visitors all night. Despite their exhaustion, they remained because of one reason. "Is the Guild Master saying anything?" "Just to block them. That’s all he said before locking himself in his office." It was because of an order from Dang Hwa-seo. Yes, an order. It was unusual for Dang Hwa-seo, who rarely gave orders in such a form, to deliver an irrefutable command. What did this signify? Being the two most frequently scolded by Dang Hwa-seo, they had some insight. "Do you understand? Fail, and it's over for you." "Seriously... why won't she step in herself?" "Well, maybe she fears she'd end up killing those people if she did?" "...Wow, I can't argue with that." Hyewon shivered. Jegal San nodded in agreement. Generally rational and generous, Dang Hwa-seo had recently become utterly petty and irrational whenever it came to matters involving Mok Riwon. Indeed, it seemed possible that those who brought up marriage proposals could end up poisoned. "Master Mok is…" "He doesn’t know about this. My sister has strictly ordered him not to leave the training hall. If I remember correctly, she told him to focus all his efforts on winning the championship." "That's grim." Hyewon summed it up in a word. Jegal San couldn’t find anything to rebut. * At the same time, on the martial arts contest stage. [Victory! Kwonryong Ilwoon!] Ilwoon had brought his opponent in the round of 128 to his knees. He exhaled and brought his hands together in a sign of respect. "It was a good match." "It was an honor." The opponent was a martial artist whose name Ilwoon didn't know. In fact, even at this moment, Ilwoon couldn't remember the opponent's name, so focused was he on the task at hand. 'Next.' Next would be his match with the Prodigy Sunryong Hyungong. Ilwoon clenched his fists tightly. Even though he had trained long for this moment, confidence in victory still eluded him. How well could he do? How strong would the fully-powered Sunryong be? All sorts of doubts surfaced in his mind. "Please step down." The judge spoke amidst this. Only then did Ilwoon realize he had been standing idly for far too long and gave an embarrassed smile. "Ah, my apologies." "No, I apologize for not allowing you the time to fully enjoy the aftermath." The judge was a man from Baekgeomdae who was acquainted with Ilwoon. At his refreshing smile, Ilwoon bowed once more and descended from the contest stage. "Good work." Namgung Jincheon was waiting below the stage. He, too, was scheduled for a match that day and had come out together. He wore a thoughtful expression. Ilwoon guessed the reason. 'Master Namgung must have seen it.' The technique Mok Riwon displayed in the opening match. Not many had yet come to understand it, but in Ilwoon’s eyes, Namgung Jincheon understood that technique better than anyone else in the world. It was inevitable, as few were as deeply interested in Mok Riwon's martial arts as Namgung Jincheon. "You seem burdened with many thoughts." "...Nonsense." Namgung Jincheon snorted derisively. "I just had something to think about." "Master Mok's technique?" "No." "Really? I thought for sure you'd have felt something from that sword. Everyone's been reacting to it." The response came as a surprise to Ilwoon. "Hasn't it always been the case? It's natural for him to be at that level. He's the rival I must surpass." For a moment, Ilwoon widened his eyes, then let out a sigh of laughter. 'Really…' His confidence was strong. Though somewhat arrogant, that arrogance seemed more like a fighting spirit. It was a demeanor unimaginable from him a few years back, but Ilwoon preferred this version. "The match is soon, right? I'll be supporting you." "I'm not up against a formidable enough foe to warrant support." With those words, Namgung Jincheon left. As he did, he seemed to be deep in thought yet again. * Do Chang Geon. He was a martial artist who had come all the way from the far northern lands to Muhan for this day. His martial prowess was with staff techniques, and although he belonged to a minor dojo in the countryside, his significant cultivation attested to his supreme level of mastery. Now at the age of forty, Do Chang Geon had stepped onto the contest stage to test his mettle in the vast martial world. 'My first opponent is the Sword Dragon!' Do Chang Geon faced his opponent across the contest stage and laughed heartily. "I am Gold Claw Do Chang Geon from Haebuk! Please take care of me!" "I'm Namgung Jincheon." True to the rumors, he was a man of few words. Recently, there were rumors of his being simple-minded, but Do Chang Geon found himself doubting their truth. 'Would a fool be so lost in thought?' To Do Chang Geon, a fool was someone who didn't think. Yet, Namgung Jincheon appeared to be someone engrossed in contemplation even at this moment before the match, likely a deep reflection on martial philosophy. The master of Jeongseong. The promised star of the next generation, discussed as the next greatest of the martial world until Mok Riwon appeared. Now that he had reached the supreme level himself, it was sure to be a fierce match. As a fellow martial artist, Do Chang Geon found this fact to be quite to his liking. [Ready!] The judge raised his hand. Do Chang Geon raised the stakes, saying, "Though our skills might be similar, as a senior who has roamed the martial world twice as long, I won't back down easily. Brace yourself." Namgung Jincheon lifted his head at those words. Their eyes met, and it was only then that a spark lit up in Namgung Jincheon's eyes. "This is more like it." Swoosh— Namgung Jincheon drew his sword. Do Chang Geon tilted his head in confusion. "Hm?" "My contemplation is over." Contemplation, then. So, the rumors of his being dim-witted were false after all. Do Chang Geon grew more tense. It was as if this promising junior had reached some enlightenment, and the prospect of facing the sword he would wield was already frightening. A pleasant shiver enveloped him just as Namgung Jincheon slightly parted his lips. "Celestial Sovereign." "…Hm?" "That's the name of this sword." Do Chang Geon's martial spirit wavered, and his eyes trembled subtly. To suddenly mention the name of his sword like that. 'Could his contemplation have been…' Was he pondering over naming his sword? "Begin!" The judge shouted. Namgung Jincheon immediately swung his sword, and caught off guard by the surprise, Do Chang Geon couldn’t manage to defend properly and was quickly overwhelmed. Even in that moment, he was perplexed. "Victory! Sword Dragon Namgung Jincheon!" Even as defeat was confirmed, Do Chang Geon was dazed. It was only that night that he finally accepted his defeat. Do Chang Geon thought, "His mind is profound! He used his words to make me let my guard down in that moment!" Indeed, it must be the attitude of someone who has reached the apex without arrogance! A firm resolve to do everything possible! The longing for victory! What fiery spirit that is! He continued to speak well of Namgung Jincheon until the end. It was more comforting to him to think that he had relinquished his place to a passionate junior rather than lost to a fool in a grand martial arts tournament. The next day, Do Chang Geon left Muhan with a hearty laugh. "Chang Geon, let’s put in even more effort!" The truth remained buried even today.