Chapter 716: Heavenly Dragon Martial Arts Tournament (24)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 716: Heavenly Dragon Martial Arts Tournament (24)
Dao King Peng Jeowoo.
He was the Lord of the Hebei Peng Clan, a pillar of the Orthodox Faction’s Four Noble Clans—or rather, what was now referred to as the Three Noble Clans.
In his youth, back when he was hailed as a rising prodigy, he bore the title of the Ink Dragon. After outgrowing that moniker, he served the Murim Alliance as the Captain of the Iron Dragon Army. He was a martial artist of the Fusion Realm, his prowess placing him among the elite of the Central Plains' Hundred Masters.
In terms of his record, he was highly regarded for his distinguished service in the past war against the Unorthodox Faction. Even now, he was hailed as a master whose skills had not waned since his prime.
However.
He had run for the position of Alliance Leader several times, only to be defeated on every occasion.
This meant…
‘His martial might isn't bad. His standing is decent, and he's a man with political ambition.’
His disposition was domineering and fiercely belligerent, but…
‘He’s simple…’
He was an easy man to read.
While that might not matter for a lone martial artist, for a clan lord, it signified a lack of depth in his capabilities.
‘In that regard, the Sword King is a bit better.’
Though the Sword King’s standing within his own clan was lower, he possessed a more cunning air than the Dao King. That might sound like an insult, but it was a quality a clan lord needed to survive.
‘And that’s exactly what the Dao King lacked.’
That must have been the problem. Despite his status and ability, it was the reason he had failed to secure the position of Alliance Leader.
That was all well and good. If he were just a mediocre figure, I could leave it at that.
But.
‘What did he come to this martial arts tournament for?’
A question arose. The Dao King had nothing to gain by being here.
Standing? He already had plenty. Fame? The Dao King’s reputation wouldn’t grow even if he performed well in this tournament. There was simply no incentive for him to participate.
Everyone was sure of it, but no one bothered to think too deeply about it. Why?
‘Because it’s entertaining.’
The Dao King himself, participating in a martial arts tournament and displaying his skills—that alone was enough to draw the public’s eye. And among that public…
‘There must be tons of merchant associations tied to the Alliance.’
That was my thought. This event only benefited the Alliance. As much of an ignoramus as the Dao King was, could he really be unaware of this? Probably not.
Then there was only one answer.
‘The Dao King came to the tournament to cooperate with the Alliance.’
A request. Or cooperation. Or perhaps, a threat. It didn't matter which. What was important was that the Dao King had complied. He had to be seen as a man of the Murim Alliance, whether by his own will or someone else’s.
[Peng Jeowoo of the Hebei Peng Clan versus Bi Eejin of the Xi'an Bi Clan.]
“...”
I stroked my chin as I looked at the name written on the bracket board.
‘Hmm.’
How did it end up like this? I tilted my head, staring at the matchups.
‘What’s the intention?’
When they pitted the Heavenly Dragon against Wi Seol-Ah, the intention was clear. But this time, I couldn't see it. Was it just a random matchup?
‘I doubt it.’
I was skeptical. Word had already spread that the Dragon Warrior was the disciple of the Dishonored Venerable. Would they really use such an important card—one that could serve as massive publicity—in this manner?
‘…No, wait.’
The thought struck me, and I snapped back to my senses.
‘This is how it becomes even better publicity.’
The descendant of the Dishonored Venerable gets beaten to a pulp by the Dao King. That was the picture they were hoping for. They probably never imagined that the Dragon Warrior could actually win.
‘Though you never know.’
Given the precedent set by the Heavenly Dragon and Wi Seol-Ah, they might have considered the possibility. But it was still an absurd notion.
‘A mere young prodigy defeating a King-level master.’
It was a feat with no precedent in history. No one would be expecting it.
‘Because they don't know this old man's true identity.’
My eyes narrowed as I looked at the black-haired young master. A kind-looking face that belied his foul temper. To the world, he was the young prodigy known as the Dragon Warrior, Bi Eejin. But hidden beneath that gentle skin was an ancient, weathered hound. His true title was the Dishonored Venerable.
“…My goodness, two descendants of the Venerables have gathered.”
“The Seomwolgeom has even reached the Fusion Realm. I wonder how the Dragon Warrior will fare.”
With so many figures of interest gathered in one place, all eyes were fixed on us. Should I put up a sound barrier? As I briefly considered it…
“So, what do you want me to do?” the Dishonored Venerable asked me.
“About what, sir?”
Hearing my reply, the Dishonored Venerable gave a slight smile. His expression was terrifying; his lips were smiling, but his eyes remained cold.
“About that ignoramus from the Peng Clan.”
“…Are you, by any chance, referring to the Dao King?”
“Tsk. King? That’s a bit much for that moron.”
His sharp assessment made me let out a dry laugh. To the Dishonored Venerable, the Lord of the Peng Clan was treated as a mere ignoramus.
“His father was somewhat useful. The son? Not so much.”
“You mean the previous Dao King.”
The previous Dao King, Peng Taewoo. He was the former lord of the Peng Clan, who had died over a decade ago.
“Yes. His blade was heavy. He was a man who showed the boldness characteristic of his bloodline.”
It felt like listening to a legend. That’s what the stories of the past sounded like coming from the Dishonored Venerable’s lips. The era he lived in was not peaceful like today; it was a time when the war with the Unorthodox Faction was still in full swing.
“But he completely failed at raising his child. A true shame.”
He didn’t look the least bit regretful. The Dishonored Venerable continued his story nonchalantly.
“However, that one over there seems decent enough.”
I followed the Dishonored Venerable’s gesture. My gaze landed on the Dao King, who drew attention just by sitting there. Next to him was a young man. His finger was pointing at Peng Woojin.
“Unlike his father, he’s a proper man.”
If the Dishonored Venerable praised someone, they were invariably an incredible genius. Peng Woojin was no exception.
“Mm.”
Peng Woojin, who had been looking down, raised his head and our eyes met. It seemed he had sensed my gaze. He met my eyes, grinned, and waved in my direction.
“Young Master Gu!”
“...”
Good grief. He didn’t have to shout. I gave a reluctant nod in acknowledgment.
Meanwhile, the Dao King glanced at Peng Woojin. At his gaze, Peng Woojin gave an awkward smile. It looked like he’d been told to shut up via telepathy.
“Heh heh.”
Perhaps finding the scene amusing, the Dishonored Venerable let out a chuckle. “He’s broken somewhere.”
“...”
“Well, for a martial artist to soar, they must let go of a weight or two. If you try to have it all, you’ll be too heavy to fly.”
“What a load of crap. Why do you have to make being a madman sound so cool—!”
Smack.
“Gak!”
Damn it. He just had to kick me in the shin.
“You’re getting cheekier by the day. I should really beat you into shape one of these days…”
“…As if you don’t do that normally?”
He beats me up every day, yet he acts as if he doesn’t.
“The fact that you’re still like this proves it’s not enough, doesn’t it?”
“This is just how I was born. If a beating could have changed me, I would have changed long ago.”
“…Whatever you say.”
What could I do? It was in my blood. If getting hit was enough to fix me, I wouldn't have lived this way in my past life or this one.
“Anyway. What do you want me to do?”
“I’m sorry… about what?”
What had he been talking about this whole time? Just as I was about to sigh at his cryptic words…
“That moron. Should I let him advance?”
“…!”
The Dishonored Venerable’s words made me freeze for a moment. His expression was unchanged. His black eyes, the same as mine, stared back. Looking at him, I swallowed hard.
‘…You cunning old snake.’
He acted as if nothing else mattered but the pinnacle of martial arts, but the Dishonored Venerable was surprisingly observant. And now was no different.
“…It doesn’t matter. Do as you please.”
“Hmm, is that so? Understood.”
After hearing my answer, he immediately let out a yawn. What was with that confidence, right before a duel with the Dao King of all people? His words meant he could control the outcome of the duel—winning or losing—as he pleased.
Could the Dishonored Venerable, in his current form, actually defeat the Dao King? Of course, I didn’t entertain such a doubt for a second. This was the Dishonored Venerable. That was all that needed to be said.
‘…That’s settled, then.’
I turned my gaze from the Dishonored Venerable to Seong Yul. I couldn’t help but look, seeing how he’d been fidgeting restlessly this whole time. I swung my hand and smacked him on the back of the head.
Smack!
“Gah!?”
Startled by the sudden attack, Seong Yul’s eyes widened as he looked at me.
“Hey, calm down, Young Master Jin. Why are you being so distracting?”
“...”
“Something bad might happen if you keep that up, you know?”
“…Ah.”
A warning that wasn’t quite a warning. Even after hearing it, Seong Yul’s state didn’t change.
‘Hmm.’
He’s a wreck. Was it because he was matched against a disciple of the Kunlun Sect? Or was it simply because he was meeting them? I couldn’t be sure.
‘At least they don’t seem very interested in him.’
The disciples from the Kunlun Sect weren’t paying Seong Yul any mind. It was strange. Didn’t they know each other?
‘I looked into it, but there was nothing special mentioned.’
I had occasionally received intelligence on Kunlun, but there was never any mention of Seong Yul. In fact, there was no mention of the Heavenly Killing Star at all.
‘I’m sure the Qinghai Sword had him in his custody.’
Why was there no word about Seong Yul? It was peculiar.
‘Even considering Kunlun’s current urgent situation, it’s still strange.’
After the death of the Qinghai Sword, a new sect leader had been appointed. Several other incidents had occurred since then, and they were still in the process of stabilizing the sect.
‘That must be why only a few of them could come.’
When the Alliance announced the tournament, they had signaled their attendance, but given the sect’s circumstances, it seemed fewer than ten disciples from Kunlun had come. In other words, it was proof that the Kunlun Sect was not in a good state.
‘Is something going on?’
Problems were popping up everywhere. The Emei Sect was one, and if Kunlun was also having issues, then things were a real mess.
‘The Ten Sect Alliance is full of nothing but trouble.’
Knowingly or not, none of them were in good shape. And these were the so-called pillars of the Orthodox world.
‘To be this shaken by just a few tremors.’
To think that sects that had laid their roots for centuries were in such a state. The only ones who were relatively stable were probably Mount Hua and a few others.
‘And yet, in this situation, the Murim Alliance is holding a festival.’
It was the definition of a shitshow. They were covering up the rot inside with a glamorous facade. It was a situation that was obvious with just a little scrutiny. The way they handled things was truly a spectacle.
‘Sigh.’
There wasn’t much I could say. I just gave Seong Yul’s shoulder a rough squeeze.
“Ah, and I’m saying this just in case.”
“…Yes?”
“Be careful.”
Hearing my warning, Seong Yul’s eyes dimmed slightly.
“…Yes. I’ll do my best not to reveal my identity.”
“What are you talking about?”
Seong Yul was about to spout nonsense, so I corrected him.
“Be careful with your strength, you idiot.”
“Pardon?”
“Think before you swing. You can’t fight like you do when you spar with me, got it?”
“…?”
“Do you understand?”
“Yes, yes… I understand.”
His face said he didn’t understand at all. Is this going to be okay?
“...”
I considered explaining in more detail but decided to just keep my mouth shut. Well… he’ll figure it out. With that thought, I decided to let it go for now.
* * *
I left the waiting room and headed elsewhere. It was the spectator section, set up with a clear view of the dueling arenas. I had been here before, but the location was slightly different. This was a special area the Alliance had prepared for those who had made it to the main tournament.
I looked up. An awning provided shade. The facilities were far superior to the general spectator seats.
‘They’re not even trying to hide the special treatment.’
Was it a gesture of acknowledgment for making it this far? On the surface, it might seem that way, but the reality was quite different.
‘Making it to the main tournament means, in other words, that you have potential.’
You could be the descendant of a noble clan, a martial artist sponsored by a merchant association, or perhaps an unaffiliated warrior with outstanding talent. The Murim Alliance had identified this and prepared accordingly.
‘Because people love special treatment.’
It had always been this way, and this time was no different. The great merchant associations that sponsored the Alliance, the lords of noble clans, and the leaders of sects—they would all be watching the main tournament from the pavilions. They would also be watching this special treatment.
In a way, it might seem like a perfect arrangement, but…
‘It’s sickening.’
The scene was so blatant it was enough to make my stomach turn. I found a random spot and sat down. Unlike last time, the space was quite roomy. They handed out letters with the tournament brackets again, but I didn’t take one. Anyone who needed to memorize it had already done so.
Time passed after I took my seat.
“…Now then. The third round of the main tournament will begin!”
A judge who had climbed onto the arena stage began the opening announcement, his voice imbued with Qi. The moment he finished speaking, martial artists began to appear. One difference from before was that this time, they were using only a single arena.
‘Is it to focus attention, since the skill level will be higher from the third round on?’
There could be many reasons, but I was too tired to think about it. I simply propped my chin on my hand and focused my gaze. I could feel the eyes of the martial artists around me, but I ignored them as well.
‘Indeed.’
Would today’s duels pass without incident? That was my only concern.
* * *
Swish.
A young man slowly wrapped a bandage around his hand.
“Hyaaaah—!”
Boom!
Fierce shouts and vibrations powerful enough to shake the surroundings erupted from outside. However, the young man’s expression was unconcerned. Finally finished wrapping the bandage, he inspected his hand from various angles.
“Mm.”
He nodded, satisfied. The young man’s name was Bi Eejin. He was the second son of the Xi'an Bi Clan and the man known as the Dragon Warrior.
“Not bad. It’s been a while, but it’s still a neat job.”
After finishing, he shook his hands a few times and gently rolled his shoulders. He was warming up. He had to loosen up his body. If he didn’t…
‘I might not be able to control my strength.’
He needed to show a moderate level of skill, but this incompetent body of his struggled to even control its power properly. One wrong move and his own strength could tear his skin.
‘Tsk, tsk.’
It was a pathetic state that only elicited sighs. Worse, he couldn’t tell anyone about his situation. After all, he was the one who had chosen to end up like this.
As Bi Eejin was warming up and waiting for his turn…
“You seem quite nervous.”
Someone spoke to him. He shifted his gaze and saw a giant of a man, a full head taller than him. Bi Eejin recognized him.
Dao King Peng Jeowoo. The Lord of the Peng Clan and Bi Eejin’s opponent. He smiled as if pleased to see him and spoke.
“Don’t worry. Nothing too serious will happen.”
“...”
Bi Eejin looked at the Dao King with a peculiar expression. A moment of silence passed. Before it was too late, he quickly performed a fist salute and showed his respects.
“A member of the Bi Clan’s bloodline greets the Lord of the Peng Clan.”
“Yes, is the Lord of the Bi Clan well?”
“He is.”
“The last time I saw him was several years ago. The Lord of the Bi Clan must be even stronger now.”
There was a subtle condescension in his tone. Bi Eejin could implicitly tell that the Dao King considered the Lord of the Bi Clan a step below him.
‘Hmm.’
Hearing this, Bi Eejin’s eyebrow twitched minutely.
“I heard you are the disciple of Elder Bi…”
“Yes.”
“A curious thing. The Elder said he would not take any disciples.”
He had said something like that a long, long time ago.
‘Back then, I didn’t think I’d need one.’
It was a time when he was particularly arrogant. He believed that no one but himself could receive the martial art he had created. That’s what he used to think. How embarrassing.
“Times have changed, so it’s possible for the Elder to change as well.”
“…You are correct.”
Feeling an inexplicable sense of shame, Bi Eejin let out a small, dry cough.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the Elder. Is he in good health?”
“He is in good health.”
Extremely healthy, in fact. So healthy that he had even regained his youth. Damn it all.
“Haha, I see. I have fond memories of the Elder looking upon me favorably. A good memory, indeed.”
“...”
Hearing his words, Bi Eejin forced his head to remain still. When had he ever looked upon him favorably? He had no memory of such a thing.
‘Was it when that Taewoo fellow brought him?’
Back when the previous clan lord had brought his son to him. There was a little brat who had burst into tears upon seeing him. Was he five then? He cried so hard he even shit his pants.
“He even told me I was skilled in the martial arts and that I should devote myself to them…”
He had done no such thing. On the contrary, he had advised the previous clan lord that the boy seemed to lack talent compared to him and that he needed to work harder. They say a stupid child is at least cute. This one didn’t even have that going for him.
“In any case, you seemed overly nervous, so I came to help you relax. I also heard you were the disciple of an elder I’m close with.”
“…Yes, I thank you for your consideration.”
Having been instantly promoted to a "close acquaintance" of the Dao King, Bi Eejin let a smirk play on his lips.
Pat, pat.
A large hand patted Bi Eejin’s back.
“Well then, I’ll see you later.”
The Dao King finished speaking and left.
“...”
Left alone, Bi Eejin had to think.
‘What should I do?’
He had planned to hold back and take it easy.
‘Hmmmm.’
He felt sorry for his foolish disciple. But it seemed that simply taking it easy wouldn’t be an option anymore.