Chapter 93
Chapter 93
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 93
Chapter Title: Return After a Month
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The Yicheon Academy, upon Wi Seong-cheon's return after a full month, had seen a massive expansion in its buildings. They had been adding new structures in preparation for the Yicheon Festival.
In particular, the main arena that Wi Seong-cheon had half-destroyed during his spar with Jin Bae showed no trace of the damage—not even its original form remained.
"See it?"
Jeong Mi-ju said in a curt voice.
"Yes, I see it."
Wi Seong-cheon replied as he looked at the arena she was pointing to. The newly enlarged arena gleamed with a faint black sheen.
"It's not just the main arena."
The Yicheon Academy had five arenas in total: east, west, south, north, and central.
Student spars typically used the central main arena, but for tournaments involving all students, all five arenas were utilized.
The Yicheon Festival's tournament followed the same pattern. It would start with matches on the smaller arenas, then shift to the main arena as the numbers dwindled.
"They've expanded all of them. Do you know what that black stone is?"
"Not really..."
"It's Profound Dark Radiant Iron. Incredibly tough and ridiculously expensive. Know who made it?"
"The laborers, I suppose."
"Money made it!"
Jeong Mi-ju bellowed suddenly.
Wi Seong-cheon shrugged at her outburst. No sooner had he returned to the academy and unpacked in his dorm than he received a summons from Seo-baek. And now here he was, being dragged around by Jeong Mi-ju.
"...Senior. Don't you have classes?"
"What classes? The festival's in two days. They've canceled all lessons since yesterday. It's about getting our acts together before the tournament."
Jeong Mi-ju grumbled as she tugged Wi Seong-cheon along by the hand.
Wi Seong-cheon followed with a reluctant expression as he asked,
"What about you, Senior? Don't you need to prepare?"
"Why bother when I have no intention of winning?"
Wi Seong-cheon glanced around as she pulled him along.
The training grounds were already filled with students honing their martial arts. Casual spars were breaking out here and there.
But now, they weren't focusing on their training—they were staring straight at Wi Seong-cheon. Everyone knew what had happened in Gansu.
"Ha Yeon trains diligently at everything, but she's holed up in her room meditating today as well. Me? I have no plans to work that hard."
"Senior Seo-baek might want to train."
"He couldn't win even if he did. Making the finals would be an achievement for him."
Jeong Mi-ju grumbled.
Seo-baek, who had been following quietly, let his shoulders slump at her words. Finals. Wi Seong-cheon smacked his lips.
The Yicheon Festival tournament divided the 400 students into 20 groups.
Ultimately, the top student from each group—20 in total—advanced to the finals on the main arena.
"Don't you want to make the finals, Senior?"
"I have to show face, so yeah, the finals at least. Then I'll bow out gracefully after."
"Isn't the schedule too tight?"
The ten-day Yicheon Festival allocated days two through eight for the tournament.
Of that, only four days for preliminaries. Just four days to cut 400 down to 200.
"What can you do? Everyone cares about the finals. That's why it's rushed. You'll barely get a breather between matches. Ugh, just thinking about it tires me out."
Jeong Mi-ju muttered with a look of disgust.
"And the tight schedule lets them gauge real ability. To reach finals—barring a walkover—you need four straight wins. Not one fight a day for four days, either. If the timing gets unlucky, you might fight twice in one day."
One had to manage stamina and internal energy accordingly, snatching rest whenever possible.
Avoiding injuries severe enough to end participation was basic.
"You can't kill your opponent in these matches, right?"
"Of course not."
"Then why allow real swords? Isn't that too much?"
"Controlling that is part of your skill. If you don't like it, become the academy lord and change the traditions yourself."
Jeong Mi-ju grumbled.
"Well, I agree it's unnecessarily brutal. There have been fatalities in the academy's tournament history, after all."
Even with lethal moves banned, a deadly strike was still deadly.
In such cases, the match halted, and the killer was expelled.
"Someone might die in this tournament too. Here's hoping not."
"Why?"
Wi Seong-cheon eyed Jeong Mi-ju in surprise. She raised an eyebrow at his gaze.
"We've poured so much money in—if a student dies now? I don't buy into superstitions, but I hate bad omens."
"Technically, it's not your money, Senior."
"Golden Name Escort Agency's money is my money."
Jeong Mi-ju snorted. After that, she dragged Wi Seong-cheon around, showing off the small arenas and VIP stands funded by her agency, all while venting her irritation.
Wi Seong-cheon followed silently behind her.
"The brackets go public in two days."
"After the festival starts?"
"Right after the opening ceremony."
[You're in Group 4, Junior.]
Jeong Mi-ju's transmission reached him.
Wi Seong-cheon just grinned without replying.
[Jin-u's in Group 4 too. As long as you don't drop out early, you'll face him in the group finals.]
[Thanks, Senior.]
[Not curious about the others?]
[Where's the fun if I know everything beforehand? I'll find out in two days anyway.]
[It wasn't easy. You pulling off that mess in Gansu helped.]
Jeong Mi-ju shot him a glare.
If Wi Seong-cheon had remained just another Cheonhwa Sect disciple from the lower class, rigging the brackets to pit him against Jin-u would have been trivial. Everyone assumed Jin-u would win anyway.
But he'd earned the moniker Latent Dragon. And stunned the Bloodthirsty Demon Lord in Gansu. Things had changed drastically.
Now the world saw Wi Seong-cheon not as some obscure Cheonhwa Sect young master, but as the Latent Dragon.
The Little Buddha, symbol of Dragon-Phoenix, versus the Latent Dragon. Too good to waste in preliminaries.
[You did it anyway.]
[I poured in this much money. ...Not just that, though.]
Jeong Mi-ju's brows furrowed.
[Jin-u will know.]
[What?]
[He'll know you're targeting him. Word leaked from the administration office. Not my fault—can't buy everyone's silence.]
As Wi Seong-cheon drew attention, the professors handling brackets hesitated to group him with Jin-u. Somehow, word reached Jin-u.
[Not certain, but suspicions are high. They backed off putting you two together after just one day, then flipped.]
[Doesn't matter.]
[What?]
[Even if Senior Jin-u knows, it doesn't change anything. Better this way, actually. Being grouped together means he accepts my challenge.]
[Yeah. He's confident he'll crush you.]
[That's all I need.]
Nothing changes. Jin-u is certain of victory. Most people are. Maybe even Jeong Mi-ju.
"How's your body?"
Jeong Mi-ju asked. Her eyes went to his right hand, still wrapped thickly in bandages.
"Internal injuries and a wrist fracture. Not something healed in a month."
"Not to the point I can't move it. Want to see?"
Wi Seong-cheon said, lifting his bandaged hand.
The hand twitched inside the wrappings. Jeong Mi-ju smirked.
"...I pushed it because your friend vouched for you. Honestly, I wasn't thrilled."
"You did it in the end."
"I'm good at reading people. The you I see... wouldn't dive into something reckless without certainty. Right?"
"Something like that. Are you worried about me now?"
"Naturally."
She patted his shoulder.
"You have to work for Golden Name Escort Agency this winter and spring break."
"Decided what for?"
"I have."
Jeong Mi-ju waved her hand. Seo-baek, standing behind her, quickly approached and handed her a pipe.
Crackle!
A spark flew from her fingertip, igniting a plume of smoke.
"What kind of work?"
"Secret for now. Not finalized."
Jeong Mi-ju grumbled, squinting. She clearly wasn't keen, so Wi Seong-cheon didn't press.
Still, he sensed he'd get dragged into something annoying by her over winter and spring.
* * *
Boom. Boom.
Clear drumbeats stirred the dawn.
Early as it was, the Yicheon Academy gates stood wide open. Students who had turned out ahead formed a long line from the main gate to the center, their faces free of any sleepiness.
Perched on the VIP stands' roof, the Black Demon King polished a red apple on his sleeve as he watched the assembled students and open gates.
The drumbeats mingled with various sounds. Footsteps, hoofbeats. Rolling wheels.
"If I'd known, I would've made a bigger entrance myself."
The Black Demon King clicked his tongue and crunched into the apple. But he felt no regret. If anything, the clamor excited him.
"Empty wagons make the most noise, they say."
He set down the half-eaten apple and stood. Nothing more to see.
White Army's Gam Tae-jun. Murim Alliance Lord...
He'd hoped to meet the great man. Turned out he wasn't worth it.
The Black Demon King hummed as he turned away.
As a first-year, Wi Seong-cheon stood near the gate. He spotted the approaching Murim Alliance warriors first.
The Demon-Exterminating Pure Heaven Legion.
The alliance's proudest force. Over a hundred elites marching under their banner—it was a sight to behold.
But in Wi Seong-cheon's mind, the Black Serpent Alliance Lord's procession—fewer than fifty—burned far more vividly than this.
No... not that.
The difference in presence came down to one person.
The Black Serpent Lord's guards, the Underworld Yakshas, and the Demon-Exterminating Legion were evenly matched.
But Black Serpent Lord Black Demon King Baek Ri-mu-won and Murim Alliance Lord White Army Gam Tae-jun?
Worlds apart.
Students bowed deeply to welcome the lord and his legion. Wi Seong-cheon bowed with them.
As the lord on his pristine white horse passed through the open gates,
Wi Seong-cheon confirmed it: the current alliance lord was absurdly weaker than the Black Serpent Lord. Undeniably a supreme expert far beyond himself, yet...
He wouldn't last ten exchanges against the Black Demon King.
The students followed the procession. The opening ceremony was at the main arena.
While the lord met the academy head and professors, students assembled at the main arena for the ceremony.
VIP seats already held guests invited to the festival.
"Quite the turnout."
Bang Jun, beside Wi Seong-cheon, muttered in awe, eyes darting over the martial world's luminaries.
"All the Nine Great Righteous Sects' heads are here. Even the clan lords."
Namgoong Clan, Huangbo Clan, Tang Clan heads sat together.
Beside them, the Nine Great Righteous Sects' leaders.
"Look there. That's the Namgoong young lord, once called Sword Dragon ten years ago. Now he's Heavenly Firmament Sword. Next to him, the stern old guy's the clan head, Sword Crane."
"He looks pissed."
"See where he's staring."
Following the Namgoong gaze led to Tae Hee-myeong.
He seemed to sense it, his expression stiffening slightly.
"Not something to shout about, but everyone knows: Namgoong's the top sword clan among families, Wudang the top sword sect among the Nine. Yet folks rank Wudang higher."
Bang Jun whispered conspiratorially.
"Especially post Tai Chi Sword Lord—Namgoong's never surpassed Wudang swords. No wonder the glare. Even if Heavenly Firmament Sword was Sword Dragon back then, had Senior Tae Hee-myeong been around, the title would've been his."
Worse, Tai Chi Sword Lord had taken Tae Hee-myeong as disciple. Namgoong's hopes of overtaking Wudang were dashed.
Wi Seong-cheon glanced at the Tang Clan. A familiar face.
Uncle Dang Jin-hu, Poison Toad, who had escorted Dang Hee-ran here. Beside him sat a gaunt man like a withered tree.
"That's the family head?"
"Yeah. Poison Justice Dang Tae-jin. Father to Hee-ran and Sa-hee Seniors."
"Not much resemblance."
"The eyes, a bit? Especially Sa-hee Senior."
Turning to Huangbo Clan: all burly, but the largest man and woman sat center.
Huangbo Clan head Tyrant Fist Huangbo Myeong and his wife.
"No Black Demon King, I see."
"Things would've turned hostile if he showed. Not like he'd care, though."
Their chatter ended there.
The academy head, alliance lord, and Demon-Exterminating Legion entered the stands.
The opening ceremony was straightforward. Jin-u, as student rep, swore no incidents during the festival. Speeches from academy head, lord, and elders followed.
In truth, students and guests cared more for the brackets to be revealed next.
'Father...'
Wi Seong-cheon scanned the stands.
No sign of him.
'As expected.'
No disappointment. He'd heard Tai Chi Sword Lord sent an invite, but hadn't expected his father from distant Gangseo's Cheonhwa Sect.
The ceremony began.
* * *
"Lord, still?"
Wi Seong-cheon had given up hope early, but Cheonhwa Sect Lord Wi Ju-seok and Chief Manager U were already near the academy.
"Just a moment."
The reason they hadn't entered was simple. Chief Manager U sighed deeply, pinching his nose.
"Why eat that if you can't handle it, you demon."
"Ugh..."
Since morning, Sect Lord Wi Ju-seok groaned from the outhouse.
The ceremony had started, but he was too busy expelling what felt like lava, sweating profusely.