Chapter 725: Heavenly Dragon Martial Arts Tournament (33)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 725: Heavenly Dragon Martial Arts Tournament (33)
Looking at the tournament bracket, a single thought crossed my mind:
Why?
Why on earth had they arranged the matchups like this?
It was glaringly obvious that the Alliance was meddling. I’d known they were up to something the moment they changed the bracket under the pretext of "additional participants."
They’re pulling another trick.
The "additional participants" were just an excuse for them to do as they pleased. I was well aware of that, but still…
Why?
This specific bracket was something I hadn't anticipated.
Tap. Tap.
I drummed my fingers against my waist, lost in thought. What could their reason be?
Weren’t they planning to pit the Heavenly Dragon against the Dao King?
I had already figured out their scheme. The purpose of this tournament was to have the Heavenly Dragon face the Dao King, likely in the semifinals or the finals. That was how the script was supposed to go. I’d known this from the moment the Dao King announced his participation.
The Heavenly Dragon would put up a valiant fight before being eliminated, and the Dao King would emerge as the victor. That was the scenario I had predicted.
The Dao King losing was supposed to be out of the question.
It wasn’t a matter of his level or skill.
The Alliance would never let the Peng Clan of Hebei suffer a defeat.
The Peng Clan was one of the Great Clans supporting the Murim Alliance. If their Lord participated in a tournament and lost, the blow to the Alliance’s prestige would be immense.
The Dao King must have reached an agreement with the Murim Alliance before entering.
The Dao King wasn’t an idiot. Well, maybe he was, but even a fool would know it made no sense for a King-level martial artist to enter a public tournament. What reason would he have to join a fight where he had everything to lose and nothing to gain?
He clearly participated because a deal was struck.
It could have been a favorable trade, or perhaps a threat that left him no choice. Regardless, the Dao King had entered the fray.
And their intention was to use him to build up the Heavenly Dragon’s reputation.
The Heavenly Dragon would lose to the Dao King, but only after an impressive display. The goal was to showcase his prowess as a Fusion Realm martial artist and prove to the world that he was skilled enough to challenge a King.
That was my prediction, but…
An unexpected variable appeared.
The situation had changed.
The Dao King has fallen from grace.
In his last fight with the Dragon Warrior, the Dao King’s reputation was shattered. It was the most humiliating "victory" he had experienced in a decade. He had been treated like a toy by a young prodigy, only to end up screaming at the boy as he forfeited the match. Whatever standing the Dao King held in the Central Plains had been utterly destroyed that day.
I don’t know the details, but the Peng Clan must be in total turmoil right now.
The merchant associations that witnessed the duel would have already started pulling their support. Others, sensing the shift in the tide, would be making their moves as well. Given the circumstances, it was unclear how the Alliance—their plans now in shambles—would respond.
Would they stick to the original plan and match the Dao King with the Heavenly Dragon? Or would they try a different approach?
I couldn't be sure, but…
I never expected them to do this.
Matching me against the Heavenly Dragon as early as the fourth round of the main tournament was an incomprehensible move.
What are they thinking?
Why was I being pitted against him at this stage? This was a variable I hadn't considered. It made no sense.
The Alliance has to elevate the Heavenly Dragon’s status, no matter what.
Even if the Dao King had become a laughingstock, they still had a job to do. They needed to find an opponent for the Heavenly Dragon who was easy enough to defeat, yet strong enough to make the fight look legitimate.
Excluding Tang Soyeol and a few others who had already proven their strength…
There are only four or five suitable candidates at most.
But I wasn't one of them.
Did they think I was weak? Is that why they matched us?
It was a possibility, but…
No, that can’t be it. As incompetent as the Murim Alliance is…
How many times had I intentionally revealed my power? I had caught the eye of the Sword Emperor and the Sword Immortal. I had shown glimpses of my strength during the duels. Even if I hadn't revealed my full potential, no one would mistake me for a weakling.
If anything, they should be suspicious.
Just how strong is he?
And with the Dishonored Venerable’s recent stunt, they’d be even more wary.
It just so happened that the Dragon Warrior, who had been keeping a low profile, had caused a massive incident. Expectations and wariness toward all young prodigies had skyrocketed. In such a climate, pitting the Heavenly Dragon against someone as ambiguous as me was a gamble—a gamble with an unknown outcome.
Why take a risk when there’s an easier path?
From the Alliance’s perspective, it was a nonsensical move. That’s why I couldn't wrap my head around it.
What are they planning?
My mind raced. To deal with this unknown variable, I had to figure out the logic behind it.
Just as I was racking my brain…
"Young Master Gu."
"…!"
My eyes widened at the sound of my name. I turned my head to see a familiar face.
A white uniform embroidered with plum blossoms—the mark of the Mount Hua Sect—and a strikingly handsome face.
"…Master Yung Pung."
It was the greatest prodigy of the Mount Hua Sect, the Sword Dragon, Yung Pung.
"Haha. Have you been well?" He approached with a fresh smile.
That bastard… he’s only gotten more handsome with age.
Not only was he good-looking, but he seemed to have grown taller as well. And here I was, having gone through hell just to gain a few inches…
"…Yes, I’m the same as always."
"I see. Ah, I did pass on my greetings to Young Lady Wi… Did you happen to hear?"
"I did."
Wi Seol-Ah had mentioned talking about me with Yung Pung before.
"I intended to see you as soon as I arrived in Henan, but… something came up, so my greetings are late."
"It’s fine. Greetings are just greetings. I didn’t seek you out either."
I knew the Mount Hua Sect was in Henan, and I knew Yung Pung was in the tournament. I was just as guilty of not reaching out, so there was no need for an apology.
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, a hint of hesitation crossed Yung Pung’s face.
"…And about… that time…"
"It’s fine."
I cut him off immediately. He was likely trying to apologize again for what happened at Wudang.
"You don’t need to apologize. I’ve already forgotten about it."
Yung Pung had been furious with me for receiving the Solar Light that had flown toward me back then. It seemed he was still bothered by the fact that he’d lost control of his emotions.
He was acting pretty strange, I’ll admit.
Given Yung Pung’s usual personality, it had been an uncharacteristic outburst, but I didn't hold it against him. When I told him I wouldn't accept his apology, Yung Pung pursed his lips.
"…Thank you."
Instead of an apology, he offered a simple word of thanks. I didn't need that either, but it was better than a groveling apology, so I let it go.
"Ah, Master Yung Pung."
"Yes, Young Master Gu?"
"By any chance… do you hear any strange noises at night? Or feel the presence of a foul-tempered old man’s voice, or anything like that?"
"Pardon…?" He looked at me as if I’d grown a second head. "I believe you asked me that before… Haha. Not at all."
"I see."
"I don’t know the reason for the question, but please don’t worry. I am a Taoist; if something like that were to happen, I could perform an exorcism immediately."
Uh… you probably shouldn’t exorcise him, though.
Yung Pung replied playfully, but I inwardly flinched.
What are you going to do if you exorcise your own ancestor?
What a reckless thing to say. Even if they weren’t related by blood, wouldn’t that still be a form of patricide?
In any case, he can’t hear the voice.
Even though Yung Pung was the descendant of the Divine Sword of Mount Hua, it seemed he couldn't hear the voice like I could. Thinking of Elder Shin after so long reminded me of what I’d heard in the North Sea.
Did he say I was Elder Shin’s reincarnation?
Namgung Myung had said as much while possessing Woo Hyuk’s body.
"…"
The thought was revolting.
That foul-tempered old man is my past life?
It was an incredibly unpleasant thought.
"Young Master Gu? What’s wrong? Your expression…"
"It’s nothing. I just remembered something disgusting."
"Ah… I see."
My stomach churned. I quickly shook my head to clear the thought.
"Never mind that… Is she doing well?" I changed the subject.
"She… you mean?"
"My younger sister."
"Ah, you mean Senior Sister Gu."
My younger sister, who was currently staying at Mount Hua. When I asked about Gu Ryunghwa, Yung Pung smiled sheepishly.
She must have come with him, right?
"She should be at her residence now. She seems a little… angry, perhaps."
"Angry?"
"Well… I believe the problem might be that you haven’t gone to see her, Young Master."
"Hah." I let out a dry laugh. "What a brat. It’s not like she’s come to see me, either."
It had been several days since they arrived in Henan, but Gu Ryunghwa hadn't come looking for me. I had the excuse of being busy, but what right did she have to be angry?
"…I tried to tell her that, but Senior Sister said, 'How could I possibly go there?'"
"…Hmm?"
What did she mean, "how"? She could just walk…
Ah.
I stopped mid-thought. I finally understood.
It’s because of Lady Mi.
It seemed Gu Ryunghwa was reluctant to visit because Lady Mi’s residence was nearby.
That’s right.
Lady Mi and Gu Ryunghwa did not get along. I had momentarily forgotten that.
Damn it…
Tsk.
It looked like I would have to be the one to pay her a visit. As I clicked my tongue, Yung Pung offered a faint smile.
"It seems my words have caused you discomfort."
"That’s not it. I’m just annoyed with myself. It’s not your fault, Master Yung Pung."
I had forgotten something I should have known. Remembering it just put me in a foul mood. Suppressing a sigh, I said to Yung Pung, "…Could you please tell her that I’ll visit within three days?"
"I will be sure to tell her."
"Thank you."
I expressed my gratitude and awkwardly scratched my cheek. It wasn't that I was suddenly trying to play the part of a doting older brother, but…
Still, I should show some concern.
It was a duty I couldn't entirely ignore.
"In any case, it was a pleasure to have this long-awaited conversation." Yung Pung moved to end the encounter.
"Are you leaving?"
"Yes. It’s a shame, but I think this is for the best."
His business seemed finished, and Yung Pung gave a polite bow. Then, his voice turned serious.
"As for the rest of our conversation… I look forward to continuing it on the tournament stage."
A smile crept onto my lips.
Is that a declaration of war?
I will keep winning until I meet you. That was the unmistakable meaning behind his words.
"Yes. Well… I’ll be looking forward to it, too."
Go ahead and try, if you can.
I didn't try to discourage him. After what I’d done in Shaanxi to pull Yung Pung out of the well he was in, I intended to remain a wall he could never overcome. That resolve hadn't changed.
Go on, try to surpass me. That was still how I felt about him.
Thanks to that, he’s turned out pretty well, hasn’t he?
After bidding farewell, Yung Pung turned and walked away. I watched his back with a keen gaze.
He’s gotten stronger.
Yung Pung was significantly more powerful than when I had seen him a few months ago. Whether he had reached the Fusion Realm or not was hard to tell—not because I couldn't see his level, but because his aura felt ambiguous.
"Hmm."
I watched him for a moment before looking to my side.
"Hey."
"Huh?"
Someone looked up at my call. It was Bongsun, who had been dozing off while leaning against a pole. The sight of drool trickling from the corner of her mouth was enough to make any affection I might have had for her vanish. She had a pretty face, but her habits were a mess.
"What do you think?"
"Whaddya mean…?"
"That’s annoying. Enunciate properly."
"What?"
"Him. What do you think of him?"
I gestured toward the retreating figure of Yung Pung. Bongsun looked over with interest. Then…
"Oh," she let out a short exclamation. "He’s super strong!"
"That’s a given, you brat."
"Then?"
"I’m asking if you think you can beat him. He’s your opponent."
"Hmm."
Bongsun was set to fight the Sword Dragon in this tournament. Only when I told her he was her opponent did she look at Yung Pung with a deeper, calmer gaze. After watching him for a long time, Bongsun asked with a dazed expression, "Can I kill him?"
"No," I answered immediately.
Bongsun nodded. "Then I don’t know. It’s ambiguous."
Bongsun had a surprisingly accurate grasp of her own abilities. For her to say that, it must be true. So, I decided to ask a different question.
"Then, what if you could kill him?"
What would happen if she were allowed to go for the kill?
"Then…"
Emotion flickered across Bongsun’s blank face. A smile formed on her lips—an incredibly chilling, bloodthirsty smile.
"I’ll win."
* * *
Not long after, the fourth round of the main tournament began. The schedule started much earlier than usual because the participants from the third round had been mixed in. Even with an early start, the day would likely end late. I wondered why they didn't just split it into two days, but since the Alliance was pushing forward, there must have been a scheduling conflict.
Well, it doesn’t matter to me.
The extended time was fine. If they dragged the tournament out over more days, it would cause problems for my other plans, so this worked out.
Kuuung—!!
A loud crash echoed. I looked at the stage and saw a large man collapsing to the ground.
Yuktan Seokgwon, if I recall correctly.
He was a well-known martial artist at the perfected Peak Realm. It seemed he had lost to his opponent, the "Pyoryuk Jegum."
"Gyo Cheolin of the Muan Escort Group is the victor!"
Waaaaaaaaah—!!
Cheers erupted as the judge announced the verdict. I had been watching for days, but the roar of the crowd was as loud as ever. I nodded as I watched.
Not bad.
Gyo Cheolin, the Pyoryuk Jegum. He was from a sect I’d never heard of called the Muan Escort Group. It was said to be a single-succession sect, and he used martial arts I had never seen before.
His level is just a hair's breadth away from the Fusion Realm.
He was at the threshold. He would likely break through soon, and from the feel of his technique, he was a man destined to be ranked among the Hundred Masters of the World. He had a good "feel" to him.
It seemed others thought the same; I could see representatives from the merchant associations already making their moves.
They’re always so fast.
They were scrambling to gather information on the Muan Escort Group and Gyo Cheolin. The faster ones would try to negotiate with him directly. The appearance of a talented rogue martial artist always set the merchant associations in motion. It had always been like this, but the desperation had intensified since the appearance of the Red-Grade Demons.
I need to start preparing on that front as well.
I had already instructed Moyong Hi-ah to prepare, but I needed to set the stage myself without delay. As I plotted my next moves, I spoke to the man beside me.
"It’ll be your turn soon."
"Yes."
Seong Yul nodded. After one more duel, it would be his turn. I glanced at the relatively relaxed Seong Yul, then shifted my gaze.
My eyes landed on a young man standing alone, away from the crowds.
Peng Woojin.
The son of the Dao King—the man whose reputation was currently plummeting. The former Heavenly Dragon, now known as the Great Saint Blade.
As I watched him, Peng Woojin looked back. Our eyes met. Then, as if he had been waiting for me to notice him, Peng Woojin waved. Despite his father’s humiliating predicament, Peng Woojin didn't seem to have a care in the world.
There was something strange about him every time I saw him.
How on earth did a guy like that come from the Dao King?
A tiger father does not sire a dog son. It was a saying I had heard my entire life, but for him, it was the opposite. Should I call it a dog father raising a tiger son?
Peng Woojin was a truly incongruous existence. For someone of the Peng bloodline, he had a small frame, and his temperament wasn't aggressive at all. He resembled his father physically, so he was definitely his son, but…
How should I put it? It was a very strange feeling.
"Hmm."
I looked from Peng Woojin back to Seong Yul and nodded.
"Hey."
"Yes?" Seong Yul looked at me. His yellow eyes glinted slightly, and his complexion still looked sickly. Yet, his face seemed faintly at ease. Was he really that relieved he didn't have to fight a disciple from Kunlun?
This bastard. If he was going to be this relieved, he should have just told me what was going on.
The way he suffered in silence was starting to get on my nerves. But since he clearly had no intention of opening up, it was even more frustrating. Something about it pissed me off.
"You and I are going to make a bet."
"So suddenly, sir?"
"Yeah."
"…What kind of bet?"
The reason I had spoken so impulsively was simple.
"You see your opponent over there?" I pointed toward Peng Woojin. Seong Yul followed my gaze. "Yes."
"Go and win. Do whatever you have to do to win. If you do, then…" I said with a grin. "The death of the Qinghai Sword we talked about before."
"…!"
As soon as the words left my mouth, Seong Yul’s eyes widened.
"I’ll tell you exactly why it was the Murim Alliance’s fault."
"…"
The story of the Qinghai Sword that I had left unfinished. As I brought it up, Seong Yul’s expression instantly turned ice-cold.