Chapter 738: Oops, My Mistake (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 738: Oops, My Mistake (2)
The day the round of sixteen finally arrived.
The waiting room was noticeably emptier than it had been on the first day. Unlike the final day of the main tournament, where even non-participants were allowed to drift in and out, access was strictly restricted once the round of sixteen began.
Thanks to that, I was able to find a seat in a much less crowded room.
The weather is nice.
I looked up at the sky; it was exceptionally clear today. Not a single cloud marred the blue expanse. It was a truly beautiful day.
The kind of perfect weather that made you want to go on a picnic.
Amidst the serene atmosphere, I subtly glanced around the room.
But in stark contrast to the bright day outside, the mood in here was incredibly gloomy. It was all due to the heavy auras radiating from the gathered martial artists.
Sigh.
I let out a quiet breath, feeling the weight of the tension. It felt as if this waiting room was the only dark spot under the sun. The air was thick with wariness and hostility, making the atmosphere feel jagged and harsh.
The source of this oppressive energy was the martial artists—or rather, one specific martial artist.
That man is a total wreck.
Most of the pressure was coming from a middle-aged man sitting some distance away. It was the Dao King, the Lord of the Peng Clan.
The pressure he exerted was intense enough to feel like it was physically crushing the surroundings. He was radiating a raw, unbridled hostility in every direction. I wondered if he was just putting on a show with his Qi like before, but…
This time, it’s the real deal.
His aura was completely different from last time. This wasn't a calculated display; it was pure, unfiltered emotion. His surging energy was being amplified by his own spiraling feelings.
The Dao King sat in silence, eyes closed, but a murderous rage rolled off him in waves.
The reason for his fury was obvious.
...It’s because that old man beat the absolute hell out of him.
Although the buzz had died down slightly following my duel with the Heavenly Dragon, the previous match between the Dragon Warrior and the Dao King was still the talk of the town. The incident where the Dragon Warrior—one of the young prodigies—had utterly dismantled the Dao King before forfeiting had become legendary.
Because of that, the Dao King was currently drowning in petty rumors. People were questioning if he even deserved the title of "King," with some whispering that he was an incompetent lord hiding behind the Peng Clan’s fading reputation.
Well, the second part was actually true, so I couldn't really fault them for that.
Regardless.
Thanks to that, all the merchant associations affiliated with him have started jumping ship.
With more than half of the Peng Clan’s sponsorships cut off and the people of the Central Plains pointing fingers at him, I could understand why the man had become such a disaster. But still…
How old is he? Taking his anger out on innocent bystanders like this.
If he was that pissed off, he shouldn't have come. He was just sitting there, trying to act imposing for no reason.
Tsk, tsk.
I clicked my tongue and gave a slight wave of my hand.
Fwoosh!
I released a ripple of Qi into the air. My energy mingled with the atmosphere, untangling and neutralizing the oppressive pressure.
Hwaak!
As the Dao King’s hostility dissipated, I heard several people around me let out the breaths they hadn't realized they were holding.
Just when I thought things might settle down…
"…What do you think you’re doing?"
A heavy, gravelly voice drifted from across the room. It was the Dao King, the source of the malice.
"What do you mean?" I replied casually. I knew he was talking to me.
The Dao King had opened his eyes and was staring me down. His gaze was sharp and venomous. The man already had a naturally unpleasant look, and his current glare made him look even more sinister.
"…How dare a brat like you meddle with my aura…"
Did I hit a nerve?
The Dao King suddenly stood up. As he rose, a much denser, more violent aura erupted with a heavy hwoook!
"Hmm."
What was this? Had he actually lost his mind?
I knew he was in a bad state, but the way he was stomping toward me made it look like he was genuinely looking for a fight. Starting a brawl in the waiting area without permission was grounds for immediate disqualification. Had the man really gone insane?
As I watched him with genuine curiosity, I noticed the other martial artists were staring at him with the same thought.
Sreuk.
A faint sound came from beside me. It was Tang Soyeol. She was reaching for something hidden inside her sleeve.
A dagger?
Don't.
The moment I realized what she was doing, I grabbed her wrist. I understood her intent, but if she acted here, she’d be the only one to suffer the consequences.
So, what should I do? Should I get up and casually block him? Just as I was tilting my head, weighing my options…
"My Lord."
Someone grabbed the Dao King’s shoulder. I looked up and saw it was Peng Woojin.
"Please, calm yourself. There are many eyes watch—"
Slap!
Everyone flinched at the brutal sound. The Dao King had just backhanded Peng Woojin across the face.
Peng Woojin’s head whipped to the side. I could see blood immediately trickling from the corner of his mouth.
"Even you dare to disrespect me? Now that you’re the Young Lord, do you think you can covet my position?"
"..."
At the Dao King’s venomous words, Peng Woojin simply wiped the blood from his lip. He must have been hit hard; his cheek was already turning a deep, angry red.
"Don't get arrogant just because you were born with a bit of talent. I am the Lord. Don't you dare try to climb over me."
Wow.
Just watching him was enough to make me feel sick. I could practically smell his shattered pride and massive inferiority complex from here. It was impossible to be more pathetic.
What’s more…
I can sense an Inner Demon.
I could see the faint traces of an Inner Demon taking root in the Dao King. It was subtle for now, but if left unchecked, it would eventually consume him entirely.
Getting thrashed by the Dishonored Venerable must have really broken him.
If he knew it was actually the Dishonored Venerable who had beaten him, he might not have ended up like this. But because he believed it was the "Dragon Warrior" who had humiliated him, he was spiraling.
How pathetic.
As I watched the Dao King, Peng Woojin—the one who had just been slapped—let out a small, chilling smile.
My eyes narrowed at the sight.
"I will take your words to heart, Father. However, I believe it would be best for you to restrain yourself for the time being."
Everyone in the room was staring at the Dao King. No matter how unstable he was, he wasn't so far gone that he couldn't feel the weight of those judgmental gazes.
"…Kk."
Hearing Peng Woojin’s warning, the Dao King glanced around the room, then glared at me one last time before spitting out a final word.
"You were lucky this time, brat. Know that there won't be a next time."
"..."
With that, he turned his back and stormed away.
Good heavens.
I couldn't help but make a face of pure disgust. What kind of third-rate villain line was that?
I think that’s the first time in my life I’ve actually heard someone say that out loud.
I must have heard it somewhere before. Though, in my past life, I probably killed whoever said it before they could finish the sentence.
"Ugh…"
It was so cringey it gave me actual goosebumps. I rubbed my arms, shivering slightly.
Why is he acting like that?
I had to force myself to suppress the urge to gag. Is this what an Inner Demon and shattered pride did to a person? I made a mental note to never grow old like that.
On top of that…
Their family situation seems like a total disaster.
The reason I’d frowned when looking at Peng Woojin was because of the moment he was slapped. I had seen a flash of pure killing intent swirling in his eyes. Not anger—killing intent.
I didn't know the specifics, but it seemed the Peng Clan was rotting from the inside.
Hmm.
Well, it wasn't my business.
They’ll sort it out themselves.
My own family was a mess; I didn't have the luxury of worrying about someone else’s. I turned my gaze away from the retreating Dao King and spoke to the two people sitting on either side of me.
"You can relax now. It looks like the show is over."
At my words, Tang Soyeol relaxed her shoulders. At the same time…
Click.
I heard the sound of Yung Pung, on my left, adjusting his grip on his sword. Tang Soyeol I expected, but what was with Yung Pung?
"…Brother, were you actually planning to fight? Why are you holding your sword?"
I asked in disbelief. Yung Pung gave an awkward, sheepish laugh.
"Hahaha. It wasn't my intention, exactly… I just tensed up without realizing it."
"A little," my ass. I saw everything. If that man had taken one more step, Yung Pung was ready to draw steel.
I appreciated the sentiment, but it seemed a bit excessive.
He has a match to fight; he shouldn't be wasting energy on something like this.
Especially on something so pointless.
As I looked away, I snuck one last glance at the Dao King.
A King, huh.
The Six Seats.
Those who inherited their titles based on influence. Martial artists who, while not quite on the level of the Ten Masters of the Central Plains, were ranked in the upper echelons of the Fusion Realm.
...Influence.
The subtle nuance of that word sparked an idea.
Hmm.
The weight that came with the title was immense, yet it wasn't a position determined solely by martial prowess. The dissonance created by that gap was interesting. If I played my cards right…
I think there’s a way to use this.
I didn't mean using the Dao King himself. An incompetent fool like him wasn't worth the effort. I meant there might be a way to leverage the reputation that came with titles like "King" or "Queen."
How should I use it?
I fell into deep thought. I had to hold onto these sudden inspirations; they usually led to something good.
Just as I was about to delve deeper into the idea…
—Contestants, please prepare!
I clicked my tongue at the announcement from the entrance. It seemed I was out of time.
—Gu Yangcheon of the Shanxi Gu Clan and Yung Pung of Mount Hua, please come up to the stage now!
I was in the very first match of the round.
"It seems it’s our turn."
Yung Pung stood up the moment the announcement was made.
"I look forward to our match," he said with his characteristic, gentle smile.
I looked at him and nodded.
Right.
For now, I needed to focus on the man in front of me. Aside from what Yung Pung had said to me…
I have business with him, too.
To be precise, it wasn't with Yung Pung himself.
It’s that aura inside him.
The familiar aura residing within Yung Pung. That was what I needed to investigate.
* * *
If there was one thing that had changed the most for the round of sixteen, it was the arena itself.
It seemed they had been preparing it in advance; the condition of the stage was completely different from the main tournament. It was much sturdier, but more importantly…
It’s gotten bigger.
The arena had doubled in size. This was clearly the reason for the few days of rest. Originally, it had been a good distance from the audience, but as the stage expanded, that gap had shrunk significantly.
Tap, tap.
I tapped the surface with the tip of my foot. That alone told me everything I needed to know.
It’s solid.
It was much sturdier than the one used in the main tournament. They had likely reinforced it with a significant amount of cold steel.
At this level…
It wouldn't break easily.
As I was gauging its durability and nodding to myself…
—It’s the Lesser King of Hell!
—Waaaaah—!!
Cheers erupted from the stands. I looked up to see countless people waving at me.
—Waaaaah—!!
—Lesser King of Hell!
"…Hmm…"
The deafening cheers and that still-unfamiliar title… Watching the crowd wave so excitedly made it hard to control my expression. I was used to resentment and criticism, not this.
—Go for it!
—You’re so cool!
—Handso—! Er, I mean, cool!
What the hell? Why change the compliment midway?
...Hmph.
It was absurd, but I couldn't help but let out a small, dry laugh. Should I wave back? No, that would be going too far. I just calmly clenched my fist, unsure of how to react.
Even though I had created this situation out of necessity, it still felt surreal. Cheers and attention I should never have received—that was still all I could feel.
"You seem embarrassed."
Yung Pung, standing opposite me, spoke up. He was clearly amused by my reaction. I scratched the back of my neck.
"…It’s not really like that."
"It’s alright. In fact… isn't this the kind of attention you should have received long ago, Young Master Gu?"
I tilted my head slightly. "What do you mean by that?"
In response, Yung Pung glanced at the audience. The crowd was still showering us with fervent attention.
"It’s something I’ve thought for a while. With your level of skill, Young Master Gu… I always believed you should have been standing in this spotlight long ago."
"…You’re exaggerating."
"Frankly, I find it even more impressive. To have reached such heights and still possess such humility. It’s a quality that many can't help but respect."
"..."
I felt like I was going to throw up. How much was he going to flatter me? Any more and I felt like my face would crack from the cringe.
Just as I was wondering if I’d have to use Qi to block my ears, Yung Pung thankfully changed the subject.
"I wanted to take this opportunity to thank you again."
"Thanks? All of a sudden?"
"Yes. If I hadn't met you back then, Young Master Gu, I would still be a frog in a well, staring up at a tiny patch of sky."
Ah. I realized what he was talking about. He meant our meeting at Mount Hua.
"The world outside the well was filled with countless strong individuals. There were many whose strength I couldn't have even imagined."
The greatest prodigy of the Mount Hua Sect. A man whose talent with the sword was perhaps the greatest among all the young prodigies. That was how Yung Pung had been evaluated his entire childhood. Because of that, in my past life, he had remained trapped in his well and never truly bloomed.
But in the end, he’s right.
I wouldn't deny it. With his talent, it was no exaggeration. If we were talking purely about the sword… Yung Pung was undoubtedly a remarkable talent. It was just that there were others, like Wi Seol-Ah and Namgung Bi-ah, who were his equals or perhaps even slightly superior.
"Every time I faced one of them, I recalled the moment I met you, Young Master Gu."
"…That’s a little creepy."
"Haha… My apologies. But I truly mean it."
That makes it even creepier… I thought, but kept it to myself.
"And as I did, a thought occurred to me. I realized how fortunate I was to have met you first."
"What do you mean?"
"Whenever a hint of arrogance tried to surface, the memory of you would make it vanish instantly. As if to say, 'Who am I to be arrogant?'"
"..."
I swallowed dryly. At this point, wasn't that more of a trauma than a positive influence? Did I beat him up too badly? No, I didn't think I was that harsh. Besides, that was back when I hadn't even reached the Peak Realm. How hard could I have possibly hit him?
"Thank you again. It is thanks to you, Young Master Gu, that I was able to come this far."
"…Yes… well… sure…"
Being thanked for a beating… it was a very difficult thing to respond to. I scratched my cheek awkwardly, then suddenly looked at Yung Pung.
"Then, Brother Yung Pung."
"Yes."
"How about now?"
"Pardon?"
I was asking purely out of curiosity.
"Now, do you think you can win?"
"..."
Back then, I had been a wall he couldn't overcome. How did he feel now that we were meeting again?
Yung Pung fell silent for a moment. The judge seemed to be watching us warily, but I ignored him. After a few seconds, Yung Pung finally spoke.
"I don't know."
It was an ambiguous answer.
"However."
Shing.
He drew his sword.
"My only thought has always been to get my hero’s band back from you."
I smirked at the sharply honed tip of his blade.
Back when I first visited Mount Hua, I had received something from Yung Pung when we parted ways. An item he had asked me to return when we met again someday. Though those were his words, both he and I knew the true meaning behind them. It wasn't just a request to return a favor.
A satisfying match.
It meant he would ask for it back when he won. We both understood and accepted that. And my answer to him, both then and now, was the same.
"Brother. Then I’m afraid that won't be possible."
Crack.
I said, cracking my knuckles.
"You will probably never get that hero’s band back."
I will always be a wall you cannot overcome, so go ahead and try.
Then and now, my answer remained unchanged.
As I took my stance, the judge, who had been waiting for this moment, raised his hand.
Swoosh.
"Heavenly Dragon Martial Arts Tournament, Round of Sixteen…"
As the judge’s hand rose and his voice rang out, the audience fell into a hushed silence.
"Gu Yangcheon of the Shanxi Gu Clan versus Yung Pung of the Mount Hua Sect… Let the match… begin!"
With that shout, the match exploded into life.
Fwaaaah—!!!
Brilliant plum blossoms bloomed from Yung Pung’s body. There was no hesitation. Denser and more vibrant than ever before, plum blossom petals spread in all directions. Their quantity and quality were incomparable to our last encounter.
He’s certainly grown.
As I watched the petals with a strange sense of pride…
Huh?
I looked at Yung Pung through the swirling storm of pink petals. Through the gaps in the ceaselessly falling blossoms, I could see him.
But…
…What is this?
Something was wrong.
What?
Every time a petal drifted by, Yung Pung’s appearance seemed to shift strangely. He seemed to grow taller, and his clothes seemed to change.
What was happening? Was this some kind of formation or illusion art? He didn't seem to be changing in reality; it felt like I was the only one seeing it.
As I frowned, trying to assess the situation…
"…!"
My eyes widened in shock.
His face was changing. Yung Pung’s face was literally transforming. Wrinkles appeared, and his facial structure began to shift. I wondered if it was an older version of Yung Pung, but that definitely wasn't it.
The face was fierce—a complete contrast to Yung Pung’s gentle eyes. It was an old man with sharp features and incredibly fierce, piercing eyes. A man who, just by looking at him, you could tell had a foul temper and a fouler mouth.
And yet, it was a familiar face.
I hadn't seen it often, but I had met those eyes once before. A face that looked like it was about to click its tongue and call me a "rotten bastard" at any moment.
The moment I saw that face…
Shwik!
Kwaang!
"Keoheok!?"
My fist flew out before I even realized what I was doing.
Yung Pung took the hit directly to his face and went flying, rolling across the stone floor.
"Oops."
Yung Pung tumbled across the arena. He must have been hit hard, because there was a visible trail of blood where he had rolled.
Seeing that, I realized my mistake.
"…Oops."
I’d completely misjudged my strength.