Chapter 119
Chapter 119
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 119
Chapter Title: The Runner-Up's Resolve
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'Wise move.'
The Black Demon King slowly rose to his feet. Mu Yeonjun hadn't revealed everything he had.
He had unleashed the Rogue Beggar's Demon Subduing Six Harmonies Palm, the Transcendent Spear's Ultimate Extreme Spear, and the Taiji Sword Lord's Wuji Taiji Sword. Midway through, there had even been the Moon Shadow Fairy's Moonlight Divine Dance. But the only technique he had displayed in full, down to its profound essence, was the Wuji Taiji Sword.
There was an old saying in the martial world: hide two-thirds of your strength. On a stage watched by so many, he probably didn't want to expose his full power. In the end, Mu Yeonjun had lost, but he had upheld the dignity of the Heavenly Being.
It had been a clash of such high caliber. Winner and loser were divided, but it was a fight where even the loser commanded respect.
'And he showed he could wield the Ten Heroes' arts with ease, while leaving room for doubt.'
The victor was Woo Hayeon. But... what if Mu Yeonjun hadn't fixated on the Wuji Taiji Sword? The 'what if' lingered for everyone.
Woo Hayeon's sword had broken—not because of Mu Yeonjun's techniques, but due to her own swordsmanship overwhelming it.
They had left that margin for each other, and the match was decided. The winner: Sword Saint Woo Hayeon. It had been quite the spectacle.
The Black Demon King chuckled as he turned away. The Euicheon Festival's martial tournament, pitting the righteous sects' prodigies against one another—it had been worth watching in person.
'Thanks to that, I know exactly where things stand.'
With the cheers at his back, the Black Demon King exited the arena.
"My disciple was just a touch better."
His humming was swallowed by the roar of the crowd.
'It was a treasured sword.'
Woo Hayeon glanced down at the blade still in her grip. She had wielded it for so long it felt like an extension of her hand, yet it had shattered completely.
A pang of regret hit her, and the deafening cheers felt burdensome. Ah, she'd gone and won after all. Lifting her head with that thought, Woo Hayeon saw that Mu Yeonjun had already vanished from the arena.
"Heh..."
She flashed an awkward smile and waved to the spectators. High-ranking Huashan Sect members, led by Falling Petals Song Jinil, shot to their feet, clapping and shedding tears.
Woo Hayeon beamed at them and waved back.
"Ooh...!"
Overwhelmed by his disciple's radiant figure, Song Jinil's legs gave out, and he collapsed. It was unbecoming of the Huashan Sect leader, but no one blamed him.
Not just Song Jinil—the other Huashan experts clutched their chests and slumped over as well.
Wi Seongcheon watched Woo Hayeon, entranced. Seeing her wave with her broken sword, he finally understood Tae Heimyung's feelings when he'd confessed his admiration for her in front of everyone during the semifinals.
Wi Seongcheon's eyes met Woo Hayeon's. She grinned smugly and pumped her fist.
Her lips parted. Though her voice didn't carry, Wi Seongcheon could clearly read what she said.
'I kept my promise.'
Wi Seongcheon grinned broadly and nodded. Paeng Yeonhwa shot him a narrowed glare, her tail twitching up and down, but he didn't notice.
The awards ceremony for the tournament would take place tomorrow, the final day of the Euicheon Festival.
The crowd filed out of the arena, sharing their thoughts on the Woo Hayeon versus Mu Yeonjun match. Wi Seongcheon wanted to congratulate Woo Hayeon on her victory, but he couldn't just yet. Even aside from the Huashan experts, the Alliance Leader and numerous elders had swarmed around her.
Among them were the Namgoong Clan Patriarch, Sword Scholar, and his son, the Rising Sword of the Heavens. Tae Heimyung paced anxiously nearby, fists clenched.
"Where are you going?"
Paeng Yeonhwa tilted her head at Wi Seongcheon, who wasn't heading toward Woo Hayeon.
"To congratulate the runner-up."
Wi Seongcheon gave a wry smile in response.
Mu Yeonjun wasn't in the waiting room. Wi Seongcheon wandered the academy grounds in search of him and soon found him.
He was at the cafeteria. It was past mealtime, and with the Euicheon Festival bringing food stalls everywhere, the place was nearly empty.
Mu Yeonjun sat in a dim corner, eating his meal.
"...What are you doing here?"
Wi Seongcheon trudged over and asked. Mu Yeonjun, who had been calmly scooping fried rice, looked up. He blinked, then waved his chopsticks.
"Can't you tell?"
"Yeah, I see. Eating rice."
"Starved since breakfast. Barely ate yesterday either."
Mu Yeonjun shoved more food into his mouth as he spoke. Wi Seongcheon found it absurd but sat in the chair opposite him.
"...Taste good?"
Mu Yeonjun chewed silently and nodded. No slurping sounds—he clearly had proper table manners. Wi Seongcheon chuckled dryly and propped his chin.
He ordered a bowl of knife-cut noodles and a bottle of liquor from the approaching waiter, then turned back to Mu Yeonjun.
A leisurely silence fell until the food arrived. Mu Yeonjun ate quietly, and Wi Seongcheon just watched without speaking.
"You must've been starving."
By the time Wi Seongcheon started on his noodles, Mu Yeonjun had finished. He set down his chopsticks and looked at Wi Seongcheon, who slurped up a mouthful and nodded.
"I haven't eaten either."
Wi Seongcheon polished off the noodles. Mu Yeonjun stared blankly the whole time. Wi Seongcheon wiped his mouth, then filled two cups to the brim.
"Congratulate you? Or console you?"
"Whatever you want."
"Then congratulations it is."
He slid a brimming cup toward Mu Yeonjun.
"Congrats on second place."
Mu Yeonjun smirked and lifted his cup. They clinked lightly.
"No desire to win?"
"I did. Just not desperately."
He refilled the empty cups.
"Senior Woo Hayeon was desperate, unlike me. And she was enjoying it, unlike me."
"So you yielded?"
"Yielding isn't the right word. I told you—I wanted to win. But... I'm not in a position to chase victory blindly."
Wi Seongcheon raised his cup first this time. They clinked again.
"I'm under a lot of scrutiny. Can't be helped, as the Heavenly Being."
He couldn't show everything.
"My enemies are the demons—demonic beasts, Demonic Cult, Heavenly Demon... and Demon Kings. What I need to crave is eradicating them, not tournament wins."
"So you didn't go all out?"
"If I show everything, my enemies will learn about me. That's all I considered. And... I did go all out."
Mu Yeonjun drained his cup and gave a bitter smile.
"Got greedy midway. The Taiji Sword Lord was my master, even if just for three years. I learned the sword from her."
So he'd insisted. He wanted to beat Woo Hayeon with the sword.
"But I couldn't win. That's it."
There was no tremor in Mu Yeonjun's voice. His smile was bitter, but he harbored no regrets over the loss.
"Senior Woo Hayeon's sword was incredible."
Little liquor remained in the bottle. Mu Yeonjun divided it between their cups.
"I'm glad I got to know her."
His smile rang true. Glad... Wi Seongcheon recalled a past conversation with Mu Yeonjun.
"Your shoulders feel lighter now, huh? Must be why you're glad."
"Yeah."
Mu Yeonjun nodded.
"I can't eradicate all demons alone. We need to join forces. I saw the potential of the righteous sects in Gansu; this Euicheon Festival confirmed it. Not just them—the Black Heaven Prodigy, that Black Demon King's disciple, and the Black Tyrant, the unorthodox world's young phoenix."
Mu Yeonjun offered his cup. They emptied the last drops.
"And you, the Hidden Dragon Wi Seongcheon. This generation's juniors are the finest in martial history. Not yet, but when the Ten Heroes turn over... that's when the martial world will stand against the Demonic Cult."
"If the Demonic Cult gives us that time."
"They will."
Mu Yeonjun spoke with conviction.
"The Heavenly Demon sent the Bloodcurdling Demon and Sword Demon after us but didn't kill us. If he didn't want to give us time, he'd have finished us then."
It wasn't just that instance. Since the previous Heavenly Being was slain by the Heavenly Demon thirty years ago, the Demonic Cult had the power to ravage the martial world. Yet they hadn't stirred for three decades.
...The Heavenly Demon hadn't killed his father.
Dokgo had slain one of the Ten Demons, the Blood Rage Demon. Even then, the Heavenly Demon spared Dokgo, merely shattering his dantian—a merciful punishment compared to his infamous cruelty.
More than that, the Heavenly Demon had infused his own qi to ensure Dokgo survived the journey home.
Does he have a wife? Children? Disciples?
Take them.
Have a child.
Raise disciples.
'And someday, again.'
Wi Seongcheon nodded slowly. He had to agree with Mu Yeonjun. The Demonic Cult—no, the Heavenly Demon—would grant them time.
"Thanks."
Mu Yeonjun stood.
"...For what?"
"Congratulating my runner-up finish. And keeping me company at dawn."
"It was worth congratulating."
"Is it?"
Mu Yeonjun smirked. Wi Seongcheon sat there a while longer, watching Mu Yeonjun's back as he left the cafeteria.
All sorts of thoughts swirled. He hadn't heard the full story, but judging by his father and past Heavenly Flower Sect leaders, the sect's fate mirrored the Heavenly Being's.
Demon extermination.
"You're the same as me."
Wi Seongcheon muttered, staring at the empty cup. When Mu Yeonjun had first baited him about their shared fate of demon extermination, he'd dismissed it as nonsense—a lonely soul's plea for companionship.
In the end, it was true. He was lonely, driven solely by the compulsion of being a Heavenly Being, neither fully human nor warrior.
Wi Seongcheon recalled Mu Yeonjun's shining eyes—different from usual—as he spoke of demon extermination. He clearly remembered their night walk through the Gansu demonic beast camp.
I feel a kinship with you.
I thought you could be the one who understands me.
"In the end, you were right."
Wi Seongcheon smiled bitterly and lifted the bottle.
A few drops left—such a shame.
* * *
"...I see."
The voice mumbled. Wi Seongcheon looked pityingly at Bang Jun, lying on the sickbed.
His body was still swollen, but much improved from days ago. At least they could talk.
"Woo Hayeon senior won, huh? I figured Mu Yeonjun would take it for sure."
Bang Jun shifted uncomfortably as he spoke.
"Hey. Scratch my ass for me?"
"No."
"Come on. Can't reach with how bloated I am."
"Scratch it and pus'll come out."
"You bastard, is that the issue?"
Bang Jun wailed mournfully. Wi Seongcheon sighed deeply and picked up a stick near the bed.
He wondered why it was there—turns out for this. Grimacing, Wi Seongcheon scratched Bang Jun's rear with it.
"Ah, that's the spot."
"How long you gotta stay like this?"
"They said the swelling'll go down in four or five days."
Bang Jun frowned.
"Sahee senior went too far. Could've held back—or used hidden weapons like against Yeonhwa."
"I told you, Dang Seona senior hates your guts."
"Fuck, beggars are supposed to stink."
"But she gave you the antidote."
"She poisoned me first, then gave medicine!"
Bang Jun thrashed and cried out.
"Should've dropped out in qualifiers...!"
"But you got to learn arts from Rogue Beggar senior thanks to it."
"Bastard, easy for you to say...! Starting this winter, I'm in for bloody hell."
He'd kept his promise to advance to the main tournament. Thus, Bang Jun became a disciple of Ten Hero Rogue Beggar. But he felt no honor in it.
Truth be told, it was because his standards had risen watching the main tournament. When semester ended and he returned to the Beggars' Sect for break, no sweet rest awaited—only grueling training that'd make him shit blood.
"You're not the only one complaining. I'll be trailing Jeong Mi-ju senior over break too."
"Yeah, right!"
"Not just me. Looks like Heeran'll suffer this time. At least you won't starve."
"Yeah... true."
Bang Jun stilled, smacking his lips and furrowing his brows.
"Cheonsal's a mystery too. Never thought he'd take Heeran as disciple."
It wasn't announced yet, but obvious enough. Dang Heeran had holed up for days because of it.
"Anyway, rest up. I'm off."
"...Where? Stay, I'm bored."
"Got a date."
"With who?"
"Yeonhwa."
Wi Seongcheon rose as he said it. Bang Jun blinked.
"...Since when are you two like that?"
"What nonsense?"
Wi Seongcheon burst out laughing and shook his head.
Next, before the Euicheon Festival ended—let's walk together at night. Ignoring Bang Jun's booing, Wi Seongcheon left the infirmary.
The promised time approached. He hurried to the dorms.
Recalling Paeng Yeonhwa's face from earlier made him chuckle unwittingly. Ears perked, tail wagging, hesitating before saying 'yeah'—that Paeng Yeonhwa was—
"You're here?"
Standing in front of the dorms, her face as flushed as before, though her outfit had changed.
Wi Seongcheon froze momentarily at her attire. Always in martial robes, now she wore some vibrant dress from who-knows-where, cheeks rosy.
"Y-your clothes!"
Paeng Yeonhwa's voice sharpened. She grabbed her twitching tail and turned away.
"...Earlier... I ran into Cheong Wu-bin senior. She asked if I had plans tonight, and I said I was meeting you... She just dragged me off and..."
It wasn't just clothes. Her hair was braided, lips darker than usual, lashes fuller.
"I-I said I was fine. But she lent me clothes and did my makeup..."
"...Suits you."
Wi Seongcheon smiled warmly. Paeng Yeonhwa's lips parted wordlessly. He brushed his own clothes casually.
"Makes me feel bad for dressing like this."
"I-it doesn't bother me."
"When'd you get so close with Cheong Wu-bin senior?"
Was it from drinking together the night before finals? They were distant in Gansu.
"...No idea. She's been fussing over me weirdly since yesterday."
Cheong Wu-bin had started pampering Paeng Yeonhwa out of kindred sympathy from her own crush, but Paeng Yeonhwa didn't know that.
"Zhang Clan folk draw stares too. Maybe that?"
"Could be, but it's so sudden."
"Dunno."
She didn't dislike it. First time dolled up like this—unfamiliar, embarrassing with how aware she was of Wi Seongcheon. Still, she was grateful to Cheong Wu-bin.
Excluding childhood, first time in pretty clothes like this.
"...Hoo."
Paeng Yeonhwa steadied her breath. Don't get too excited. Even fallen nobility, she calmed herself and turned.
"Let's go."
With that, she stepped lightly ahead.
Watching her tail sway like a dance, Wi Seongcheon unwittingly smiled—but he held it back.