Chapter 692: Heavenly Dragon Martial Arts Tournament (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 692: Heavenly Dragon Martial Arts Tournament (3)
An hour had passed since I parted ways with Wi Seol-Ah.
Surveying the situation, I was filled with immediate regret.
This was a mistake.
The reason was simple: the line was far too long.
It hadn't seemed that bad at first, but perhaps because I’d arrived late, I found myself stuck for a considerable while. I should have gotten in line sooner. I’d ended up in this mess because I was too busy spacing out and people-watching.
I should have moved the moment the queue suddenly swelled, but because I hesitated, I was now facing a full hour’s wait.
“Gu Clan… Gu Yangcheon. Confirmed.”
The Alliance member checking my wooden pass hesitated. Why did everyone freeze the moment they saw my name?
This feels strange.
I hadn't done anything bad yet. What could the problem be?
Regardless, after finally getting my pass cleared at the end of that hour-long wait, I followed the signs. Passing through the gate, I entered a vast, artificially cleared field.
By the time I made it inside, a massive crowd had already gathered. Well, after standing in line for so long, that was to be expected. Even a cursory glance suggested there were over a hundred people.
They had divided the participants over three days and even categorized them by color. If this was the turnout for just one group, how many were there in total?
Furthermore...
What are they planning to do?
Even with the divisions, could they really filter out this many people in a single day? I’d heard there were second and third preliminary rounds, but I was curious to see how they would manage the logistics.
People were already forming ranks inside, so I joined the queue. After waiting a little longer, a voice rang out.
“White Group. Total of one hundred seventy-two participants. All have arrived.”
The words came from a swordsman standing at the front.
...That’s a hell of a lot of people.
Nearly two hundred martial artists gathered in a single group. Just looking at them made me scoff. What were they really planning? A massive group brawl?
That would be the easiest way.
It was a method I’d seen used often, both in my past life and this one. It was the most efficient way to cull the numbers, but...
These guys have an image to maintain. They probably won’t go that route.
Being the so-called Orthodox Faction, they would try to avoid "crude" or "violent" methods.
And just as I expected—
Creeeak—!
The sound of something heavy being dragged echoed across the field.
“What is that?”
“Huh? Something’s coming.”
The martial artists' eyes widened as they looked toward the source of the noise. Several swordsmen were hauling something massive.
Upon seeing it, my own eyes widened.
“Why is... that...”
Why was it showing up here of all places?
Many were confused, unable to identify the object, but I knew exactly what it was. How could I not?
I’m the one who brought it here. Of course I know what it is.
It was the very thing I’d traveled all the way to Guangdong Province to painstakingly excavate and sell. Thanks to that haul, my pockets were overflowing with gold. There was no way I’d forget it.
The object was none other than Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Steel.
The hardest metal in the Central Plains. The legendary material that was said to have vanished from the world long ago.
“Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Steel?”
I heard a startled gasp; someone else had recognized it.
“Are you saying that pillar is made of Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Steel...?”
“One that size?”
“Surely it must be an alloy.”
The pillar stood about fifteen cheok tall. Everyone assumed it was impossible for the entire thing to be pure cold steel. And for good reason.
If that whole thing were pure cold steel, it would be worth a literal kingdom.
In this era, Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Steel was incredibly rare. Even the Tang Clan, the renowned Clan of Iron, used it sparingly, mixing only tiny amounts into their masterpieces. Surely the entire pillar couldn't be pure.
Just as that thought crossed everyone's minds, the swordsman began his explanation.
“This is Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Steel, mixed with roughly fifty percent other metals.”
The crowd gasped. As expected, it was an alloy. However...
“Half? That entire pillar is fifty percent cold steel? That’s impossible...!”
Even at fifty percent, it was an astronomical amount of the precious metal.
“Where on earth did they get that much?”
“Did they discover a secret vault somewhere?”
“...Ahem.”
I let out a dry cough at the last comment.
I did get word that someone had purchased a large quantity. So it was the Murim Alliance.
I knew because the merchant I’d entrusted with the sale had informed me. To think the buyer was the Alliance.
I was wondering what they planned to do with so much of it...
The amount I’d put up for sale was only a third of what I’d found. The rest was safely stored elsewhere. It would have been easier to just sell it all and retire in luxury, but...
Cold steel has its uses.
It was far too valuable a resource to liquidate entirely.
“The Murim Alliance has truly prepared something incredible.”
“It seems their expectations for this tournament are sky-high.”
The other participants were already fired up just by the sight of the pillar. Had the Alliance anticipated this reaction?
Probably.
Impressing their peers while gaining a political advantage—this was what the Alliance did best.
While everyone was captivated by the cold steel, a figure appeared.
“Thank you all for gathering.”
His voice, bolstered by deep internal energy, instantly commanded the field's attention.
“That man is—!”
“A Captain...! He’s one of the Alliance Captains!”
A man stepped forward, his white robes—the symbol of a Captain—fluttering in the breeze. He wore an unfamiliar mask, but one could tell at a glance that he was no ordinary martial artist. He was someone who had long since surpassed the Fusion Realm and was perfectly settled within his power. His sheer presence was palpable.
“I am Song Yu, Captain of the Alliance’s Red Dragon Army.”
Ah.
I only remembered him after the introduction.
Isn't that the Dark Bow?
The Red Dragon Army was one of the eight battalions of the Alliance, a unit where specialists with unique weapons gathered. Its captain, Song Yu, was an archer. I’d heard he was a master marksman who could strike a target in total darkness.
I didn't have much of a history with him.
I think he died when the Heavenly Demon appeared.
When the Heavenly Demon descended upon the heart of the Murim Alliance, four Captains had fallen. The Dark Bow was among them.
“I will be personally overseeing the preliminary round for the White Group. I ask for your cooperation.”
At the Dark Bow’s words, murmurs rippled through the crowd.
“A Captain appearing for the preliminaries?”
“First the Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Steel, and now this. The Alliance is clearly taking this seriously.”
The eight Captains were the pillars that protected the Alliance. In the Orthodox Faction, holding such a rank was considered an immense honor. It was a position reserved for those skilled enough to be ranked among the Hundred Masters, while also possessing significant political influence.
For such a figure to oversee a mere preliminary test... what were they planning? Everyone watched the Dark Bow with bated breath.
The Dark Bow spoke again.
“For the first test, as it is only the preliminary round, I have prepared something simple.”
Tap, tap.
The Dark Bow tapped the cold steel pillar planted before him.
“One by one, you will come forward and leave a mark on this cold steel.”
Hm?
I frowned. I’d heard this somewhere before.
“If the depth of your mark meets the standard, you pass.”
Well, well.
I sneered inwardly. I’d wondered what they were going to do with all that cold steel.
A rerun.
It was the same test I’d taken at the Heavenly Dragon Academy years ago. The concept was identical. The only difference was that back then, the alloy had a much lower concentration of cold steel, and they had enough spare blocks to replace them.
To have prepared only that one pillar...
Were they that confident the cold steel wouldn't break?
With Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Steel, I suppose it’s possible.
Even at fifty percent purity, it was still cold steel. Ordinary Qi would struggle to even scratch the surface.
I thought we’d be fighting from the start, but they’re keeping it basic.
It meant they intended to filter people out based on raw internal energy capacity and cultivation level rather than technical martial skill.
“Now then.”
The Dark Bow made the final announcement.
“We will now begin the preliminary round of the Heavenly Dragon Martial Arts Tournament. Come forward, one by one.”
And so, the "Cold Steel Breaking" began.
* * *
BOOM—! CRACK—!
CRASH—!!
By the time noon had passed, thunderous roars echoed continuously across the plain.
“Uwaaaaaaah!”
A burly man swung his fist with all his might.
KWAANG—!!
A tremendous boom erupted, followed by a violent burst of wind pressure. In terms of raw power, it was enough to shatter a boulder, but—
“Fail. Next.”
The judgment was cold and immediate. There wasn't even a faint scuff on the surface of the cold steel where his fist had connected.
“N-no way...!”
The man stared in disbelief.
“I must have made a mistake...! J-just one more chance...”
Unable to accept the result, the man pathetically pleaded with the Dark Bow.
“I made myself clear,” the Dark Bow’s voice was ice-cold. “You have one strike. The moment you touch the cold steel, your attempt is over. There are no second chances.”
The man’s face flushed a deep crimson.
“What kind of bullshit rule is that?! I won’t accept this! There’s no way I, Palgodon, can’t even pass the preliminaries—! Gack!”
The man, who had been screaming at the top of his lungs, suddenly lost consciousness and collapsed. Those watching flinched. In a blur of motion, the Dark Bow had struck the man’s jaw, knocking him out instantly. Most hadn't even seen him move.
Members of the Alliance appeared and dragged the fallen man away.
“Next. Number ninety-two.”
The Dark Bow spoke without sparing the man a second glance. A martial artist stepped forward from the line, his expression stiff with nerves. Tension began to settle over the remaining participants.
“Palgodon... isn't he the Young Leader of the Guangdong Mukchal Sect?”
“People were saying he’d reach the Peak Realm soon... To think a man like that couldn't even leave a scratch.”
“Over ninety people have gone, and not even twenty have passed... Is that really Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Steel?”
An hour into the preliminaries, nearly a hundred people had taken the test, but only nineteen had passed. Not even a twenty percent success rate.
Two who are close to the Fusion Realm, six at the perfected Peak Realm. Eight at the standard Peak Realm, and three at the very limit of First-Rate.
The three First-Rate martial artists had used highly condensed techniques, focusing all their power into a single point to barely meet the requirement.
Seeing that, I could gauge the difficulty.
The standard is the Peak Realm.
It was a test designed to measure the internal energy capacity and application typical of a Peak Realm master.
Now then, let’s see.
I glanced around, calculating the numbers in my head.
They said the total was one hundred seventy-two.
Based on their levels alone...
About fifty people.
That was my estimate for how many would actually pass.
KANG—! Screeeech—!!
A grating metallic sound rang out. I felt the surge of energy from a distance and nodded.
He passed.
I predicted the result from the sound alone, then looked at the pillar. A slender man stood there holding a sword, clear Combat Qi shimmering on his blade. A faint mark, about five chi deep, had been carved into the cold steel.
The Dark Bow nodded. “Number ninety-six. Pass.”
“Thank you.”
The man bowed respectfully and moved toward the area reserved for successful candidates.
“As expected of the Pre-Heaven Martial Light Sword... I knew he’d make it.”
“The geniuses are just built different. What a sharp strike!”
Hearing the title, I tilted my head.
Where have I heard that before? Ah.
I remembered. It was a title I’d overheard while registering. They said he was a famous martial artist from Qinghai. I only remembered it because the title was so damn long. It seemed we were in the same group.
He looks to be at the perfected Peak Realm.
His skills lived up to his reputation. His unwavering stance showed he had undergone rigorous training. Not bad.
Just as I was acknowledging the skill of the "Pre-Heaven whatever-his-name-was"—
“Next, number one hundred... one.”
The Dark Bow hesitated for a fraction of a second while calling the number. The crowd went silent.
“...He’s up.”
“Of all the luck, to be in the same group as him...”
As the man stepped before the cold steel, voices filled with awe and trepidation began to circulate.
Dao King Peng Jeowoo.
He was in my group as well. And his number was right before mine. He was 101; I was 102.
As I stared at the Dao King’s massive back, a voice came from behind me.
“You’re quite unlucky.”
I shifted my gaze. A man of average height with a cunning, sharp face was looking at me. He was the person directly behind me in line.
“To think you’d be right after the Dao King.”
I tilted my head. “What do you mean by that?”
As if he’d been waiting for me to ask, the man smirked. “I mean, that’s the Dao King. He’ll do more than just dent that steel... Being right after someone like that means you’ll be compared to him in every way imaginable. It’s a recipe for embarrassment.”
“Hm.”
“You look like a young fellow. Even if you fail, try to look on the bright side. At least you got a front-row seat to a real show.”
His tone made it clear he expected me to fail.
“Compared to you, I’m lucky. At least I’ll be spared some of the humiliation by having a few people between us.”
He was subtly trying to get under my skin. What was this bastard’s problem?
“You seem pretty confident, old man.”
“Ha! You don't know who I am?”
“Do you know who I am?”
“...‘You’?”
The man’s expression soured at my informal speech. “You’re being quite disrespectful, young man.”
“So are you.”
“That’s because I am clearly your senior by a wide margin, so it’s only natural—”
“Enough. I asked if you know who I am.”
“...Of course I don’t.”
“Then how would I know you?”
The man’s brow twitched. Then, with a huff of self-importance, he said, “I am the Long Path Righteous Sword, active in Xi’an.”
Oh, I see.
“...And?”
“...Huh? Are you pretending not to know me even after I’ve given you my title?”
No, I really didn't know him.
Gudo... Gu-what?
No matter how I racked my brain, I couldn't place it. It was a title I had truly never heard of.
At my lack of reaction, the man’s frown deepened. “This kid really has no manners...”
Just as he was about to sigh and lecture me further—
Guuuuuuuu—!!!
“Hah!”
“Gasp!”
In an instant, a tremendous pressure began to surge. It was the energy emanating from Peng Jeowoo as he stood before the pillar.
“Hoo.”
Taking a deep breath, Peng Jeowoo gripped his greatsword and settled into a stance.
Instantly—
Guaaaaaaaa—!!!
An immense amount of energy flooded his blade. The Dao King’s sword. Combat Qi seeped into the Ink Greatsword.
“Kgh... What incredible pressure.”
“This is... the Dao King’s aura.”
The crowd reacted in shock. The air shimmered and the ground vibrated. This was the aura of a martial artist who had reached the Fusion Realm.
Finally—
“Hup!”
Peng Jeowoo poured his strength into the strike and swung his sword at the Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Steel.
KWANG! KWAGAGAGAGAGANG—!!!!
When the heavy internal energy collided with the pillar, it exploded from the point of impact, blasting outward in all directions.
Kuuuuung—!!
Kwaaaaaaa—!!
A gale swept through the field, causing the gathered martial artists to stagger. It was a wind pressure incomparable to anything that had come before. Those with lower cultivation were nearly blown off their feet.
When the dust settled—
“Heo! The cold steel!”
“No way...”
“...The pillar is gouged?”
It was the largest mark left by any participant so far. A long, deep, horizontal blade mark had been carved into the metal.
The Dark Bow stared at it in silence for a moment before speaking.
“...Pass.”
He announced the result with a hint of genuine surprise. As if it were the only possible outcome, the Dao King nodded and walked toward the winners' circle. Even after he left, the excitement among the participants didn't cool down.
“For his blade aura to be that refined... the scion of a Great Clan is truly on another level.”
“Well... at this rate, isn't the winner already decided? It’s the Dao King, after all.”
“I’m satisfied just having seen that strike. The world is truly vast.”
Was what they just saw really that amazing? The martial artists were acting as if they’d just witnessed a miracle.
Is it my turn?
The atmosphere was perfectly set.
“As expected of the Dao King... If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have been able to hold my head up. For that, I must thank—”
I ignored the moron yapping behind me and stepped forward.
“Next, number one hundred and two.”
By the time the Dark Bow called my number, I was already standing before the cold steel. Behind me, the chatter continued unabated.
“The Peng Clan is really—”
“If the Dao King wins, then the Heavenly Dragon Army will...”
“The preliminaries are just a formality for him...”
The noise was irritating. Ignoring it, I slowly reached out my hand.
Tuk.
My fingertips touched the cold steel. I felt its biting chill.
“Hm?”
The Dark Bow reacted immediately. “Number one hundred and two. Your hand has touched the cold steel.”
The noisy crowd went silent for a moment.
“I believe I just stated the rules, didn't I? The moment you touch it, your turn is over.”
The rule was clear: one strike, and the moment you touch the pillar, the test is concluded. There were no second chances, yet my hand was resting against the metal.
“What’s with that guy? Is he paralyzed with nerves?”
“To make a mistake like that... Tsk tsk. He just threw away his only chance.”
“Well, after seeing that display right before him, how could he stay calm?”
“Young Master, it’s alright! We understand!”
“Hahaha!”
I heard pity and ridicule. I felt nothing. I had received such reactions a thousand times over in my past life. If I were shaken by something so trivial, I should have died a long, long time ago.
“It’s a pity, but rules are rules. Number one hundred and two is—”
Just as the Dark Bow was about to declare my failure—
Woong.
I wrapped my hand in Qi and tightened my grip.
In that moment—
Kwaduk.
“Fai...?”
My fingertips pierced straight through the cold steel.
KWADDUDEUK—!!!
Not just my fingers, but my entire palm sank into the metal. The sensation was cold and unyielding, but it gave way before me.
Just like that—
Drrrrrrrrrk—!!!
I grabbed a handful of the pillar and ripped my hand back.
Tududuk.
As my hand came away, fragments of cold steel showered the ground.
“Hm.”
I held a chunk of the legendary metal in my grasp. On the Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Steel pillar, a fist-sized hole had been bored clean through.
The noise of the crowd no longer reached me. No one uttered a word. It was a silence so heavy that even breathing felt like an intrusion.
Sensing the shift, I looked at the Dark Bow.
“Is this a pass?”
“...”
I didn't hear an answer. But I already knew the result.