Festival
The twenty-one days until the Inner Disciple Selection Tournament arrived in no time at all. Throughout that stretch the Baekun Sect had been unusually lively. Outer disciples cycled through Mission Hall assignments at a blistering pace, and the training caves—normally half-empty—were packed solid day and night with the fever of cultivation.
“I really hope Junior Brother Gwan makes it this year. That’s his seventh shot at becoming an inner disciple, you know.”
“Hmph. Seven tries is nothing to brag about. I know a Junior Brother Jeon who washed out of the selection for twenty-eight straight years.”
“Isn’t that just because he has no spiritual roots? He’ll be marking his twenty-ninth year as an outer disciple this year, right?”
“True enough. Still, the guy never stops working at it. I hope he finally gets lucky.”
Even though the matches were only outer disciples beating on one another, the approach of the selection drew the attention of the inner disciples and higher as well.
The Inner Disciple Selection was also the sect’s festival. To show off the Baekun Sect’s prosperity, the grounds were thrown open to other sects, neighboring factions, and even ordinary mortals for the occasion.
And so, under the eyes of everyone, the day of the tournament dawned. The entire sect reeked of festival spirit.
Beside the Mission Hall, mortal vendors had set up stalls. Higher up, near the training caves, wandering martial artists had pitched their own booths. There was even a place where you could place bets according to the match brackets that had been posted.
“Today feels livelier than any Inner Disciple Selection I’ve seen.”
“They moved it up on short notice, so that might be why. Even the outsiders who don’t know the details can tell this one’s special.”
“Is that so? Are there really that many people who care this much about some no-name selection at a place like the Baekun Sect?”
“Elder…”
The Talisman Workshop disciple glanced nervously around. Baekri-wan chuckled and patted her shoulder.
“I’m joking. Just joking.”
Her tone said otherwise as she strolled on. In truth Baekri-wan paid the tournament itself zero attention. What she cared about was the stall she had set up under the pretext of the Baekun Sect’s open day.
“There it is.”
In the distance she spotted a crude signboard that read White Talisman Registry. She had named it that way on Han Yuhyeon’s advice. She hadn’t thought the name mattered much, but he had foamed at the mouth insisting that branding was everything, so she had gone along with it.
“The quality looks decent, but the prices are ridiculous.”
“Money-grubbing, that’s what it is. Honestly, who in Yeongil-ju is going to shell out that many spirit stones for a talisman?”
“The cultivator running that stall has no sense of the market. Haha.”
“Hahaha.”
Two wandering cultivators brushed past Baekri-wan and her disciple, chattering just like that. They had come from the direction of the White Talisman Registry, so the target of their mockery was obvious.
“Those bastards…”
The Talisman Workshop disciple flushed and started after them, but Baekri-wan stopped her.
“Leave it. Customers say what they want. I’m not going to strong-arm anyone into buying.”
“How am I supposed to stay calm when trash that can’t even recognize a good talisman talks like that? Elder, your talismans would sell just fine even in So-ui-ju.”
“If they could tell the difference, they wouldn’t be stuck in Yeongil-ju in the first place.”
Unlike her fuming disciple, Baekri-wan answered with cool indifference. Or rather, she pretended to. No matter how hard she tried to ignore the two blind fools who had just walked by, she could not deny that the space in front of her White Talisman Registry stall was conspicuously empty. Meanwhile the cheap bulk-sale stalls run by low-grade talisman masters were packed wall to wall. The contrast pricked her pride, just a little.
Maybe I shouldn’t have bothered.
A flicker of regret crossed her mind. Why had she listened to Han Yuhyeon, of all people, about naming the stall and jacking up the prices? Future potential or not, the guy was still only at Qi Condensation 4-star. Ugly as he was, he somehow had a knack for talking people into things.
“Ah, it looks like the first match is about to start.”
The opening bout was scheduled for the start of the Si hour—nine in the morning—so the timing was right.
“Aren’t you going to watch, Elder?”
“There’s no one I particularly care to see.”
Unless she had her eye on a certain outer disciple or had some personal connection, there was simply no reason to sit through outer-disciple sparring.
“What about that ugly junior you took in recently?”
the Talisman Workshop disciple said. She herself had nearly jumped out of her skin the first time she saw Han Yuhyeon at the abandoned house. She had never encountered a face that repulsive in her life.
“Come to think of it, I haven’t seen that junior since. Have you, Elder?”
“I don’t think I have either.”
“Then did he run away?”
“No, no. Haven’t you heard the rumors about the Training Cave Phantom?”
“The Training Cave Phantom? Of course I have.”
The Training Cave Phantom had become the hot underground topic in the Baekun Sect lately. A figure whose face and skin looked covered in some kind of shell or scales kept coming and going from the training caves. He only appeared at night, so no one had gotten a clear look at him.
“Wait. So that phantom is…?”
“Probably. Depending on the technique you cultivate, your appearance can change temporarily. I’m guessing he’s practicing something like that.”
“Ah. So he’s been invisible because he’s buried in training.”
“He was already famous for living in the training caves.”
Baekri-wan spoke as if she were merely guessing, but she was certain. If any Baekun Sect disciple were cultivating a technique that special, she would have known long ago. The only unknown disciple who could possibly be doing so was Han Yuhyeon.
“Anyway, shouldn’t you go watch that junior’s match then?”
“I wonder if there’s any point.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s going to become an inner disciple either way. Why watch a fight whose result is already decided?”
The absolute certainty in Baekri-wan’s voice made the Talisman Workshop disciple’s expression turn complicated. In all the time she had known her, Baekri-wan had never once been wrong. Even knowing that, she simply could not bring herself to agree with this particular claim.
“Elder, he was only Qi Condensation 4-star when you took him in. I know his growth speed is absurd, but still…”
She pressed on.
“On top of that, every single elder is targeting him right now. They’ve definitely rigged the brackets and everything else. Elder Mun is especially good at that sort of thing.”
“I know. That old man was never going to sit still. The other elders are the same.”
“Ah—did you maybe pull a few strings yourself, Elder?”
The disciple looked as though that would at least make the claim make sense. Baekri-wan shook her head firmly.
“I don’t waste energy on things like that. The world is full of far more precious things. Why would I spend time on something so petty?”
“…Then I still think it’s going to be hard for him.”
“Is that so?”
Baekri-wan had been walking with her hands clasped behind her back. She suddenly spun around and fixed the disciple with a look.
“Then how about a wager? Whether he becomes an inner disciple or not.”
“Pardon?”
“If you win, I’ll formally take you as my personal disciple.”
The Talisman Workshop disciple’s eyes flew wide. The disciples of the workshop followed Baekri-wan and worked under her, but none of them were her direct personal disciples. Once you became an elder you were free to choose inner disciples as your own, yet Baekri-wan had never accepted a single personal disciple in the entire Baekun Sect. And now she was offering exactly that.
The disciple’s nostrils flared with excitement.
“D-do you mean it?”
“Of course. Have you ever known me to make empty promises?”
“No, never. Elder always keeps her word.”
“Good. You understand that much, at least.”
Baekri-wan answered in a bored tone. The disciple’s heart hammered. Every talisman-workshop disciple idolized Baekri-wan—her beauty, her strength, her talisman craft, her unyielding character. She was the perfect model.
And a cultivator who had spent enough years in the Baekun Sect, like this particular disciple trailing after her, knew the rumors that floated around Baekri-wan as well. If even half of those rumors were true, the disciple was being offered a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
“But if I win, what will you give me?”
Baekri-wan smiled sweetly. It was a smile beautiful enough to make flowers close their petals in shame, yet a strange chill rode inside it.
“…Uh, well…”
The disciple’s tongue tied itself in knots. The chill in that smile was one problem; the bigger problem was that she possessed nothing that could possibly equal the value of becoming Baekri-wan’s personal disciple.
“What are you hesitating for? As far as I can tell, there’s only one thing you could possibly offer me.”
“Pardon?”
The disciple stared blankly at Baekri-wan’s impatient expression. No matter how hard she thought, nothing came to mind that she could give her elder.
“Forgive me, but I truly don’t know what you mean.”
“Your neck.”
Baekri-wan leaned her face in close. The disciple flinched.
“The blood of a cultivator who has practiced virgin-guarding arts is a top-grade material for talisman crafting. Did you know that?”
Baekri-wan’s inorganic gaze froze the disciple solid. The shock was even greater because Baekri-wan had never once said anything of the sort to any of the disciples under her care.
“If you lose, I’ll hang you upside down, slit your heels, and collect your blood in a basin. You’ll die slowly, soaked in your own blood.”
“…E-Elder…”
The disciple clenched both fists until they shook.
“I’m joking.”
Only then did Baekri-wan drop the blank stare and lift the corner of her mouth a fraction. It was a smile that wasn’t really a smile—the ordinary Baekri-wan smile that carried no chill at all.
“When you make a wager, you look carefully at who you’re betting against. And when something precious is right in front of you, even if no one else is around, you ask yourself whether you actually deserve to have it. If the answer is no, you quietly step back. That is the wise way for a cultivator to live.”
With that she pulled her face away. The tension drained out of the disciple all at once and she collapsed onto the ground.
“Come to think of it, I have nothing better to do anyway. Watching might not be so bad. Sometimes it’s fun to watch a result you already know. Familiar flavors can be the scariest ones, after all. Let’s go.”
Baekri-wan turned on her heel and strode off. The dazed disciple scrambled up and hurried after her. From the martial arena a great roar was already rising—the first match had begun.
There were roughly a hundred outer disciples in the Baekun Sect, but if you counted only those with any real chance—Qi Condensation 5-star and above—the number shrank to around thirty. Under a pure single-elimination format, that meant winning four matches was enough to become an inner disciple.
If my bracket luck holds, I should finish inside the top four, right?
Gwan Jin-hong, who had recently broken through to Qi Condensation 6-star, thought so with quiet confidence. This was his seventh attempt at the Inner Disciple Examination.
Last year he had actually been strong enough to make it, but he had drawn a monster of an opponent in the very first round and been eliminated far too early.
That was the fundamental flaw of the Inner Disciple Selection. Because it was single-elimination, pure skill alone did not decide the ranking; bracket luck played a huge role.
This year was different. The moment the brackets were posted, Gwan Jin-hong had let out a cheer. His first opponent was Han Yuhyeon—the outer disciple everyone had been whispering about lately.
Illegitimate son of a prestigious immortal clan, or actually a Heavenly Spiritual Root, or, judging by his face, the product of dual cultivation between a cultivator and a demon beast… all sorts of unverifiable rumors swirled around the man. The one solid fact was that until last month he had still been Qi Condensation 4-star.
Yes, he was breaking through at a terrifying pace, but advancing two full stars in a single month was unheard of in the cultivation world. Therefore the realistic estimate of Han Yuhyeon’s current level was roughly Qi Condensation 5-star. That was perfectly manageable.
“Next match: Gwan Jin-hong versus Han Yuhyeon!”
Elder Mun Il-pyeong’s voice rang out from the center of the arena where he was serving as referee.
The instant he heard his name, Gwan Jin-hong shot into the ring like an arrow. On the opposite side, however, no one appeared no matter how much time passed.
“Han Yuhyeon! If you don’t show yourself by the third call, you will be disqualified!”
Mun Il-pyeong bellowed, clearly irritated.
“Han Yuhyeon… Han Yuhyeon… Han Yu—”
At that moment every person standing in the arena felt a chill crawl down their spines. Pressure. What they felt was pure pressure.
Suddenly a vast black shadow fell across the entire martial stage, then rapidly shrank and darkened. Everyone stared blankly upward. Someone was falling from the sky.
BOOM!
A thunderous impact shook the arena and a cloud of dust exploded upward.
“Han Yuhyeon has arrived.”
As the dust slowly thinned, the crowd finally saw the man standing at its heart. There, covered from head to toe—including his face—in scales that looked like some kind of shell, a man stood tall and utterly composed.