Chapter 69 - Huashan Branch (2)
"The prize for the Huashan Branch Sparring Tournament is the White Tiger Armor!"
The man who appeared to be a Huashan Sect disciple was shouting loudly, seemingly promoting the tournament.
Some tilted their heads, unfamiliar with the name White Tiger Armor, but many others widened their eyes in shock.
"White Tiger Armor? Did he say White Tiger Armor?"
"That's not something you can just get easily, and they're using it as a tournament prize?"
It was a fairly famous divine item—an armor infused with the magic power of a white tiger.
Not only could it not be pierced by ordinary spears or swords, but if the wearer had mastered inner armor technique, it could even block sword aura.
If auctioned off, it would fetch at least tens of billions.
This showed just how much effort the Huashan Sect had put into this Huashan Branch event.
But that doesn't mean they'll hand it over easily.
The Huashan Sect that Kim Sun-woo had seen was more worldly than anyone else.
By the rules, Huashan Sect disciples couldn't participate, but they'd surely use proxies to reclaim it.
And sure enough, he sensed several substantial auras amid the crowd.
Even so-called promising new hunters were just debut-level; returnees like these were monsters whose ages were impossible to gauge.
For the Huashan Sect to mix a few such figures in and recover the White Tiger Armor as the winner's prize wouldn't be difficult at all.
The problem was that Kim Sun-woo now wanted the White Tiger Armor for himself.
"Looks good, huh? Not just the function, but the design too."
"It's worn under your clothes, unlike what it looks like. For a martial artist, it's like a spare life."
"Pretty tempting prize for a small sparring tournament."
"So, you gonna enter?"
"Yeah. Elder Baek recommended it, so I should show some respect and join."
Kim Sun-woo flashed a grin.
Thanks to the spiritual medicine from Haesinjeon, he'd gained inner energy rivaling the pinnacle of the Second Cycle.
Honestly, he had no doubt he'd win no matter who came at him.
After quickly registering, Kim Sun-woo decided to enjoy the Huashan Branch event until the tournament began.
He wandered the venue interior, greeting various people and building connections.
As a team leader from a martial guild, a B-rank hunter, and someone riding high lately, he drew plenty of attention.
Everyone seemed so relaxed that there was no clumsy probing or jealousy.
But Kim Sun-woo picked up on the subtle tension in the air.
They're all conscious of the sparring tournament.
The White Tiger Armor was one thing, but winning a sparring tournament with so many promising experts gathered would bring considerable honor.
People were already starting to predict the winner.
Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong.
Suddenly, drumbeats echoed through the venue.
The gentle background music cut off abruptly, and the host stepped onto the stage.
"Thank you for waiting! We now commence the Huashan Branch Sparring Tournament!"
Huashan Branch Event
At his gesture, Huashan Sect disciples moved to the center of the venue and began setting something up.
As the crowd retreated to the edges, watching curiously, a simple sparring arena soon took shape.
"Hm?"
Kim Sun-woo tilted his head.
The sparring platform felt far too cramped and narrow.
You could fight on it, sure, but he wondered if the spectators could handle the spillover shockwaves.
"Special rule for this sparring tournament! To match the friendly nature, no inner energy—just pure martial arts in empty combat style!"
"Ho."
"Going that route, huh."
No inner energy—just fighting.
Everyone nodded with intrigued expressions.
Accumulated inner energy varied wildly based on one's inner armor technique level and wealth.
Being from a prestigious sect or good family was practically a fast track to success.
Especially since building serious inner energy required vast resources, widening the gap even more.
But without inner energy, just pure martial arts sparring? That changed everything.
It would highlight combat experience and technique, and maybe even let a fringe expert topple a prestigious sect prodigy.
"We have a total of 32 participants! The tournament will proceed in a single-elimination bracket! Participants, please collect your number tags!"
"Only 32? Fewer than I thought."
"Should've entered. Pretty confident in empty combat."
"Nah, you'd just get smacked down."
Surprisingly few entrants.
Maybe they didn't want to risk embarrassment.
But once the format was clear, regrets echoed here and there.
"Now, let's draw the brackets!"
The matchups were decided by lots, and amusingly, number 11—Kim Sun-woo—was up first.
Step.
He ascended the platform under everyone's gaze.
A tiny 9x9 panel space.
A few light steps and you'd be off the edge.
As he straightened his posture and waited, a Huashan Sect disciple approached and handed him a wooden sword.
"The match ends in three ways: one side admits defeat, loses consciousness, or the wooden sword breaks. Given the friendly nature, excessive damage also results in disqualification. Fractures are fine, but long-term injury or life-threatening harm will prompt intervention."
"Got it."
Fractures are okay, huh.
Kim Sun-woo nodded lightly and replied.
Soon, a tall man in black training robes climbed onto the platform from the opposite side.
His face seemed familiar, so Kim Sun-woo watched closely—then the man cupped his fists and spoke.
"Baek Mu-jin of the Sword Sect."
"Kim Sun-woo of Mugung Guild."
It was a guild, not a sect, but close enough.
The guild master was a martial artist anyway.
At Kim Sun-woo's name, Baek Mu-jin grinned as if he'd known it, clenching his fist tightly.
"Impossible not to know Hero Kim. Please guide me well."
Whoosh.
Baek Mu-jin swung his wooden sword into a ready stance.
Only then did Kim Sun-woo recall who he was.
Ah, that Baek Mu-jin.
A promising talent in his mid-20s who'd reached upper C-rank.
Not content with excelling in both martial arts and hunting, his handsome looks made him famous in entertainment too.
He was even a regular on variety shows Kim Sun-woo occasionally watched.
I used to envy him back then... thinking he had it all.
Gazing at Baek Mu-jin brought back memories of past jealousy.
Who'd have thought they'd one day cross swords like this.
Shh.
Kim Sun-woo slowly raised his wooden sword too.
Plenty of hunters straddled the industry and entertainment worlds.
They weren't viewed favorably for monetizing their looks, but Baek Mu-jin's stance was impressively solid.
Guess he learned his martial arts properly.
No wonder the Sword Sect pushed him so hard.
Beep!
The sharp whistle signaled the start of the match.
Whoosh!
Baek Mu-jin charged with ferocious momentum right from the outset.
A first move that ignored defense entirely—an extreme thrust.
Watching him rush forward, Kim Sun-woo silently counted in his head.
One, two, three.
He thrust his wooden sword forward.
Crack! A crisp clash rang out, sending Baek Mu-jin's sword bouncing away.
But he used the recoil to spin his body, unleashing a sharp slash along a long arc.
Four, five, six.
Kim Sun-woo simply stepped back lightly, evading the attack range.
The wooden sword whipped past his nose by a paper's thickness, scattering fierce wind pressure.
Baek Mu-jin grimaced in regret, but the determination in his eyes didn't waver.
Slash!
This time it was real—his momentum shifted dramatically.
He raised the sword overhead with both hands into an upper stance, then swung down with his full body weight as if to split Kim Sun-woo's skull.
...Thirteen, fourteen.
Kagagak!
Kim Sun-woo angled his wooden sword obliquely, deflecting the falling strike.
The woods ground roughly against each other but neither splintered or cracked.
Having effortlessly parried Baek Mu-jin's prized technique, Kim Sun-woo poked forward lightly, resting his sword on the man's throat.
The result came in just three exchanges.
"...Hah."
Baek Mu-jin let out a short exclamation, breathing heavily before slowly lowering his sword.
Then, eyes sparkling with genuine admiration, he cupped his fists.
"I lose. As rumored, you're incredible."
"Sword Sect swordsmanship was impressive too."
Kim Sun-woo returned the gesture lightly, ending the match on a good note.
Clap clap clap clap!
Cheers poured in for his overwhelming display.
Kim Sun-woo descended the platform with light steps.
Easy even without inner energy.
Fourteen times.
That was how many times Kim Sun-woo had "killed" Baek Mu-jin in his mind during those three exchanges.
He could've pinned him before the sword even swung if he'd wanted, but he prolonged it to three moves to gauge Sword Sect martial arts.
...And to hide his true strength from the other watchful participants.
"..."
As he descended, Kim Sun-woo scanned the crowd.
Among the tagged participants, several harbored substantial auras.
They must be confident in their skills to enter the tournament.
Of course, that didn't mean he'd hand over the White Tiger Armor.
"Number 11 wins!"
"Victory for 11! Next match soon—please stand by!"
The tournament proceeded briskly.
Kim Sun-woo claimed two more overwhelming victories, leisurely observing the others' matches.
Though he'd reached the realm of manifesting sword gang, his martial knowledge was still limited.
Just watching others spar built his insight.
They move like that there, huh.
Especially in inner-energy-free empty combat, their forms and flows were crystal clear.
Of course, in this public tournament, no one used family secret techniques or ultimate arts, but Kim Sun-woo could easily discern the nature of their sects' martial arts from a glance.
Good call coming.
Kim Sun-woo smiled in satisfaction.
The experience from watching others outweighed even the White Tiger Armor prize.
"The semifinals are set. Some expected faces, some surprises. There's a little prediction game in the back—check it out if you're interested."
Such tournaments usually thrived on betting money.
But under the Huashan Sect banner, that wouldn't fly.
So they soothed the crowd with a modest winner-prediction event.
"Now, first semifinal! As you all guessed! Mugung Guild's Kim Sun-woo, hero of countless recent feats!"
With only four left, they were now announcing backgrounds.
Kim Sun-woo gripped his wooden sword and ascended, eyeing his opponent.
Who’s this?
Young-looking, but the aura was no joke.
At first glance, it felt like gazing into a deep, heavy sea—profound and steady.
"This one hails from the Alliance. Murim Alliance's Shin Cheol-hyeok!"
A young man in his early 20s swaggered up.
His face screamed annoyance, but upon facing Kim Sun-woo, he let out a low whistle.
"Mugung, you said?"
"..."
Despite clearly looking younger, he spoke with bold familiarity.
As Kim Sun-woo looked up, Shin Cheol-hyeok smirked.
"That kid Han Kang-seok's outfit, right? Let's see what you've got."